


Ashes, Ashes, All Fall Down

by neeblack



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-31
Updated: 2019-02-05
Packaged: 2019-10-01 14:58:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 37
Words: 107,781
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17246267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/neeblack/pseuds/neeblack
Summary: Five vastly different paths from one common gene pool. Their struggles, opinions, hopes and joys. Their world as it all comes crumbling down.From the son who was not, to the woman most trusted by The Dark Lord; the one who left believe everything she knew for love; the one who fit the mold perfectly until war pulled her family apart; the one who ran away, eventually killed by family; and finally the one who committed an act in secret because the possibilities of not doing so were too horrible to think about.





	1. A Disappointment From Day One

**Author's Note:**

> Canon-compliant, though the books only. Extra material, and book contradictions, I choose to deal with as I see fit. Fixing Rowlings quickie math as I see fit. I thank her for the world she has given me to play in. but I refuse to be stuck in the limitations that she continues to dole out.
> 
> A large thank you to everyone who has granted me permission throughout the years to use the names of their role-play characters to fill out both the Hogwarts, and pureblood society populations. Also, everyone who has let me rant about Bellatrix for the past decade or so.

Cygnus Black and Druella Rosier had an arranged marriage. They had known each other for years, having gone to school with one another, and having grown up together in society. They had known they were to be married to one another as both their families kept with the old tradition of betrothals. Cygnus and Druella had been promised to each other as soon as Druella had turned eleven. Even though they saw each other at social events and went to school together, they hardly knew each other before their wedding day. They hadn’t been in the same house at Hogwarts. Cygnus was a Black and was automatically sorted into Slytherin. Druella was a smart girl, and like other Rosier girls, had ended up in Ravenclaw. They knew each other at school, though not very well. How does one go about starting a conversation with the man you are going to marry? While Druella was a popular girl with the girls in her year, she was shy, while Cygnus felt no need to interact with his future bride just yet. At parties they were expected to eat together and Druella’s dance card was covered with Cygnus’ name, the few other dances spread out among other pure bloods of their ilk. But other then these forced occasions in which Druella would stare and pick at her food and Cygnus would wander off with some other girl, they did not get much interaction.

It was a smart match, to bring the Rosier and Black families closer together. While the families had no animosity, in a world where things could change at the drop of a hat it was always smarter to be related through marriage and therefore blood. One didn’t turn on family. That was the whole purpose of daughters. You could marry your daughters off to another family with equally noble lineage, or if you were lucky, your daughter married up and made your own surname look better. Sons were more important because they carried on the family name and inherited the family fortune, but daughters had a place in the world. True, they were treated slightly better than commodities, but that was their purpose in the world. Women knew this, they kept their mouths shut, and when they got old, they might be lucky enough to become the family matriarch. They weren’t disrespected, they just weren’t as important as men. 

Druella Rosier had been told that she was getting a very good deal. One could hardly marry better than a Black and while the Rosier family was a long and extended line, the Blacks surpassed them. By betrothing Druella to Cygnus, Druella’s father knew that he had made the best match possible for his little girl, one that would ensure that she be well cared for, while making an important political ally for his family. The Blacks were also happy to now be allied with the Rosiers. 

The wedding was a very proper affair. Druella wore a very modest white wedding gown that had been in her family for ages, and the color was not just representational. She was a virgin, as girls had been disgraced for far less than that. Cygnus dressed in black dress robes. Both of them the perfect picture of what they should be. They exchanged vows, the young girl promising to love, honor and obey the young man. Both of them promising to love a person they hardly knew in actuality. Druella had three bridemaids and Cgynus had three groomsmen and all the pure blood families attended, being sure to tell the parents of the bride and groom what a good match it was, which of course they already knew, having made the match seven years ago. 

Druella knew her part in the world and she played it well. She had learned how to keep house, which for her meant supervising house elves. She knew about how to bolster a man’s ego and please her husband. She didn’t really know how to raise children but that was okay because once babies were weaned (as quickly as possible), they would be placed in the hands of the house elves until they were old enough to start taking their place in society (also as quickly as possible). She could plan a fabulous party, luncheon, or tea. All in all, Druella Rosier made a very fine pure blood bride. Cygnus Black was a lucky man, although he did not know it.

Being a member of one of the longest wizarding lines in history, Cygnus had no doubt that his wife would be perfect. She had to be, to marry him. To him all the skills that Druella was bringing to the marriage were a given. He took her for granted, being used to that kind of thing. Cygnus was the spitting image of a fine pureblood male as he stood at the alter; he had money and pedigree, looks and a heritage that could not be matched. Druella Rosier was marrying very well in the eyes of society.

The wedding was indeed the social event of the year, the bonding of two spectacular families. Even though she hardly knew the man she had married Druella enjoyed her reception; all her friends and family was there. She danced the night away, both in the arms of male relatives and her new husbands. Cygnus also enjoyed the party, pleased at how pretty his new bride was and that she was an accomplished dancer.

She was nervous when he carried her over the threshold that night, into her new home, Black Manor, a wedding present for the two of them from his family, for he was the first Black male of the generation to be married. A house of her very own was a little daunting to the young girl, for she was really no more than a girl, fresh out of Hogwarts, having graduated a few months prior. She had faith in her training; she could handle the task. But as he gave her a tour of the large estate she couldn’t help but be a little worried.

It was far more nerve-wracking for her when he carried her into the master bedroom. She had never lain with a man before and did not know what to expect. Her female relatives had only told her it would hurt but to just relax and let him take his pleasure. Surely an old fashioned idea but that was the way it was. No one had ever seen her naked and she made him avert his eyes while she took off the white dress and climbed into the big four poster bed. He understood that virgins were nervous and it pleased him that she fit his preconception of her.

Their first coupling certainly was an awkward one and it made Druella cry out in pain and surprise. Cynus was not a virgin and was not as gentle as he should have been, feeling no need. No one had bothered to explain to him that he might need to be careful and considerate of his new bride. Druella hardly knew what to expect, her female relatives only giving her the slightest of information. She lay almost motionless beneath him, but he didn’t mind. It only proved her purity in his mind.

They were both surprised when Druella did not get pregnant right away, children being one of the most important parts of a pure blood marriage. Marriage: to have sons to continue the line. Druella had been instructed that sex was something to be used to get pregnant and with her rudimentary knowledge did not understand why she was not pregnant once she had sex. On the other hand, Cygnus thought his wife had done something to prevent it. They continued to try, but it seemed nothing would get Druella pregnant. As the case would be, it was actually a problem with Cygnus that made getting pregnant difficult, but neither of them knew that, and as was common at the time, Druella was blamed. She certainly wanted to be pregnant because the boy she had know, only slightly, had grown into a rather cruel man. Perhaps Cygnus would not have been cruel if his father had not beat his own wife and children, but that was what he knew and when he got upset about the whole pregnancy debacle he let into Druella with his fist. He didn’t beat her because he felt a strong need to, simply because that was what he had been taught to do when he was displeased. He was displeased, he had not married her because he especially liked her; he wanted his son.

Bearing the pain from her husband and the own pain in her heart for a child she did indeed want, Druella was not a happy woman. There was no way out of her marriage, not then, not in the society she lived in. Many women had it worse than her, so she bit her tongue and bided her time. Finally, she could take it no more and confided in her mother over tea one day. Cygnus’ actions were not surprising to her mother, many men beat their wives and it was not considered particularly improper. She would not have mentioned it to her husband at all but the young couple was trying to get pregnant and a man could beat a child out of a woman if he was not careful. She did not believe it was her place to talk to Cygnus; she sent Druella’s father who had a man to man talk with the husband of his daughter. Cygnus stopped beating his wife, at least for the time being. 

A year after that, Druella did, finally, get pregnant and the marriage became a much more joyful one, expecting their first child, which they were sure was going to be a son. They had the nursery all decked out in royal blue, and almost went so far as to monogram the blankets with the baby’s name Cygnus Pollux Black, after the father and the grandfather, but some old female relative said that was bad luck and so they refrained. They did not bother to pick out a girls name, so strong was Cygnus’ feeling that his first child would be a boy. It had to be, he wanted a boy and Cygnus Black always got exactly what he wanted. 

Pregnancy was a happy time for Druella, she wanted a child of her own and how pleased would Cygnus be if their first child was a boy! The nine months passed fairly uneventfully. She had the normal morning sickness any woman had, her feet swelled and she got cravings. Standard, normal things for a woman with child. There were no complications and being a wealthy woman meant she got whatever she wished for. A house elf was constantly by her side, in case she needed anything, or required any service.

Late in the evening on Oct 26, 1953, Druella’s water broke and she went into labor. All the proper people were called in; a midwife brought in as well as a regular healer. Cgynus was taking no chances with his wife and first child, women still sometimes died in childbirth. Other female relatives arrived and shoed Cygnus into the drawing room while they waited on the mother to be. He paced around with other male relatives who had been dragged along to provide him company, waiting for news from the delivery room. Waiting to hear about the arrival of his son, Cygnus Pollox Black.

For a first pregnancy Druella had a relatively easy labor, much to her own delight, as the woman around her had terrified the young woman with their own horror stories. The female relatives seemed to think it was entirely unfair that while some of their own first babies had taken upwards of fourteen hours to arrive in the world, Druella Black’s baby took a mere six. 

At 1:40 in the morning of October twenty seventh, nineteen hundred and fifty three, a baby girl was born to Druella and Cygnus Black. A baby girl they were not expecting. A baby girl that was not particularly wanted.

“Congratulations!” one of the female relatives exclaimed as she came downstairs to give Cygnus the good news. “Your baby girl has been born completely healthy. Druella is resting so you may go see the both of them now.”

Cygnus was shocked. It was not supposed to be a girl baby. He was expecting a boy. The nursery was done in boy colors, they had picked out a boy name. He had no use for a girl. What did he want a girl for? Nevertheless he went upstairs to his wife, who was holding a little bundle, the baby wrapped in a blue receiving blanket because they had no pink ones. 

Druella smiled tiredly up at her husband, presenting the little girl to him. “I know we both wanted a boy, but we’ve been given a girl instead. Next time we’ll have a boy.”

He sat beside her and looked down at his daughter. She looked so small, so innocent. Baby girl Black stared up at her parents with wide grey eyes. She was a small baby, weighing a little over two and a half kilograms, and measuring only forty-one centimeters long. Druella was in love. Cygnus was not impressed with the little thing before him, the big eyes, the slightly chubby cheeks, the small tuft of dark hair on the child’s head. He had wanted a boy. Cygnus was used to getting what he wanted and he was indignant that Druella had given him a girl. 

He tore open the blanket to see if there had been some mistake, in case one of the many women had missed the crucial piece of anatomy. But there had been no mistake, his baby was indeed a girl.

“It’s a girl.” He didn’t bother to mask his indignation.

“Plenty of families have firstborns who are girls and then go on to have a bunch of strong sons,”  
Another one of their female relatives informed him of this fact. “That’s been the tendency in the Black family lately.”

Cygnus was only a little placated with that news. He could still have a son; they were still young and healthy. But that did not make him appreciate his new daughter more. She was supposed to be a boy. How dare it be a girl. 

“What should we name her?” Druella had rewrapped the little one who had started to whimper at the coldness of the air when Cgynus had torn away the warm blanket and was now stroking her daughter’s cheek, gazing with adoration down at her child. She was a mother! This little girl had come from her. A perfect little girl who now depended on her for everything. Yes, Druella had wanted a boy, just like her husband, but now as she looked down at the perfect child in her arms she could not imagine wanting anything else. Her baby was beautiful.

Looking down at the baby, Cygnus scoffed inwardly at the child’s tears. Already crying, sign of weakness. A weak girl instead of a strong boy. He was sure that had the child been a boy, it would not be crying like a small pathetic thing.

“I don’t care. Give her a strong name. She’s already acting like a waterfall.”

With that he left the room, disgusted with the thing sitting in Druella’s arms, letting the female relatives start suggesting name at his wife. No, he did not like his firstborn daughter. Let the women fawn over her. The thing that had dared to mar his previously perfect life.

Four days later the baby was named Bellatrix Callidora Black. Her mother named her after the warrior star, Bellatrix, a strong name because her father had demanded one. Callidora, which meant gift of beauty, and was already a Black family name. Her mother thought she was beautiful. Her father never got over the fact he wanted a son; that his daughter was supposed to have been a boy.

Little Bellatrix was a disappointment from day one. A disgrace in her father’s eyes simply for existing.


	2. Sisters in the Season of Sorrow

Bellatrix would have been too young to understand her father’s anger. The baby did not hear the raised tones, the frustrated yells of her father or the tired sighs of her mother. Still, Druella felt she was continuously saying “One moment dear, don’t disturb the baby,” before passing the young child to a house elf and ushering her livid husband out of the room. Cynus wanted another child immediately. He had been denied a son for a girl, a girl who cried at all hours, who interrupted his life at all hours of the day, a girl who was nothing but a pain. Druella’s job was to give him an heir, not take care of the new baby in the house. In his eyes, Druella had failed.

Baby Bellatrix was spared the yelling. She slept peacefully in her crib while Cygnus ranted at his wife, screamed and yelled, and threw temper tantrum after temper tantrum. Druella was tired, constantly with her beautiful baby girl amazed at what motherhood was, but that meant like most new mothers she was sleep deprived. Like most newborns, Bellatrix was demanding, she needed to be fed every couple of hours, needed and wanted constant attention, except while sleeping. Her husband did not understand her need to be around the baby. To him the baby was nothing more than a disturbing nuisance, one that was interfering with his attempts to have a son. Cygnus wanted his son but the few hours that Druella was in bed and not dealing with the baby she wanted to sleep. 

Then Druella took to sleeping in the nursery, to be near her daughter, not feeling the need to sleep next to her husband.

Finally Cygnus had enough and took matters into his own hands. He stormed into the nursery four months after Bellatrix had been born. Stalking over to his wife who was sitting in a rocking chair, the picture of motherhood, he ripped the baby from her arms. Startled, Bellatrix began to cry. Cygnus raised his hand to smack the girl but was halted by Druella, using all her weight to hold back his arm. He glared at his wife for the baby was being noisy and needed to be taught a lesson: Not to disturb her father.

“She’s a baby.” Druella begged, “She doesn’t understand. That’s what babies are supposed to do.”

Continuing to glare at his wife, Cygnus practically tossed the child over to a house elf, giving the creature strict orders to get her to shut up immediately. Once his arm was free of the child he grabbed his wife’s wrists, intent on one thing, producing an heir. 

“You are coming with me.” With those few words he dragged her out of the nursery. He was sick and tired of his wife being too tired, annoyed with how she chose to sleep in the nursery. He was the man of the house and he made the rules. Not her. Not that fucking baby. He was Cygnus Black and he was going to get his way, one way or another.

He would have taken her right there on the floor of the nursery but he couldn’t stand the sight of the pink walls. He was not going to conceive his son in a pink walled room, surrounded by girl toys and pink blankets. The pink walls were sickening; the pink walls mocked him, taunted him. A daughter instead of a son. A daughter instead of a son. Therefore he dragged her into the hallway, just out of sight of that horrible color. The wood paneling in that hallway was manly, as was the hall runner, solid strong male colors-navy blue, black and cream. Proper colors for a boy.

Druella knew better than to protest, he was her husband and there wasn’t going to be anything she could do to stop him. She felt as if she had known it would come to this with the way she had been paying attention to the baby, not even sharing his bed to sleep. But just because she accepted it, didn’t mean she enjoyed herself. 

When it was over Cygnus got up and left, content that he had done his job and that in nine months he’d be receiving his heir. Druella picked herself up and returned to the nursery, climbing back into the same rocking chair, accepting her daughter from the house elf. 

For the first time in her short life, Bellatrix felt tears on her face other than her own. 

Cygnus was right, he had done his job, Druella realized soon after, when the morning sickness took over, causing her to spend more time away from her daughter. Cygnus was pleased. Druella dismayed, children shouldn’t be conceived in that fashion. She felt it had to be unlucky. 

Her second pregnancy was much like the first, easy, uncomplicated, the normal complaints of a pregnant woman and nothing more. Druella spilt her time in the nursery or visiting with friends, staying away from her husband. The biggest difference between this pregnancy and the last was how she felt about it. This pregnancy was unhappy for her, not the blissful joy she had felt with Bellatrix. 

Even though she was not happy being pregnant, she wasn’t entirely miserable. After all, Bella was experiencing a lot of firsts and Druella took pride in each one of them. When her daughter sat up for the first time, when she started to crawl, and when Bellatrix first pulled herself up to stand, holding on to her crib; each one was a miraculous occurrence in her eyes. Druella was perfectly content to sit for hours in the nursery having Bella crawl to her and happily exclaiming at the brilliance of her daughter. Her amazement and fascination with her baby grew when Bella said her first word, a startled “mama” coming out rather unexpectedly when Druella was leaving for dinner one day. Needless to say Druella skipped dinner trying to get the girl to say it again. It wasn’t a bad way to spend a pregnancy, even one that was unwanted, playing games with the little girl and watching her get bigger.

Cygnus was unconcerned throughout the whole thing, again confident that he was going to be getting a boy. Since his wife was with child, he rewarded himself with an affair, a trivial young girl from a family not as renown as his own. She was engaged to be married to someone else, an older man, as there had been a bit of a scandal involving her past, but she was hardly going to refuse Cygnus Black. Not when he was being sweet and charming. Her fiancée was old enough to be her father and Cygnus had known her in school, she was only four years younger than he was. She was young and pliable and made him forget that he had a daughter he didn’t want until he returned home. 

In that manner, Druella and Cygnus existed while they waited for their second child to be born. 

When Druella went into labor on November 26th, thirteen months almost to the day after giving birth to her first child, all the right people were called. Less relatives showed up this time, should the child be a boy, the rest would be sure to Floo in, but Black Manor was not the worry and excitement filled place it was thirteen months before. Cygnus felt no concern over his wife; she had birthed one child, she could surely have another. 

Early in the evening, right after the sun had set, Andromeda Dianthe Black came into the world, much like her sister, small with a tuff of darkish hair. After the female relative came down to tell Cygnus he had another daughter, he didn’t bother to go up to see the baby. What did he want with another girl?

Even Druella had a hard time with this baby. The girl was just as perfect looking as her other child, and yet continued to feel tainted. She didn’t feel as if she loved the child any less, but at the same time didn’t want to hold her, hadn’t wanted to name her. Druella’s mother, rocking the sleeping baby in her arms had to coax the name out of Druella. Again, no girl name had been thought up, but this time there had been no stipulation from her husband to give the girl a strong name. Eventually she settled on a first name that fit the despair she felt about the little girl, Andromeda, the maiden chained to the rocks. It fit with the Black tradition of naming their children after stars so Druella doubted her husband would mind. The middle name, Dianthe, flower of the gods, was Druella’s attempt at convincing herself that this second daughter was the same perfection of the first. 

Two girls. 

Bellatrix Callidora Black. 

Andromeda Dianthe Black.

Where was the boy? Both Cgynus and Druella wondered that during the week following Andromeda’s birth. Cygnus couldn’t figure out how this second child was not a boy. Druella was worried about how Cygnus was going to react about the fact that the second child was a girl. They had been avoiding each other, Druella back to residence in the nursery with two children to look after, and Cygnus fuming around the house telling house elves to punish themselves for no good reason other than it made him feel better.

But eventually Cynus poked his head in the nursery and told his wife that she would be in his bed that night or else. Druella nodded and agreed, happy he hadn’t repeated his actions from before. That night they started trying again, trying for the child that would continue the family name.

That was how the next few months passed. Druella spent most of her days in the nursery, becoming more fond of her second daughter, who was not as cranky as her first, and watching the first learn new things. Bellatrix, at a little over one year’s old was walking around the nursery, babbling to anyone that would listen (even if only half the words were real), playing and scribbling. True, she wasn’t totally steady on her legs and often would sit down in the middle of the floor but for the most part she was quite capable of running around the nursery that now had two little girls living in it, throwing things around and responding with a teasing “no” when told that she shouldn’t be doing what she was doing.

But at night, Cygnus demanded that she come to bed with him, no matter if Andromeda cried or needed to be fed. He was not going to play second fiddle to another baby girl, not when they had house elves who could look after the children and deal with the baby during the night. His wife had to bend to his wishes and Druella did, not wanting a repeat of last time. If she was going to conceive another child it was not going to be like before. It needed to be how a husband and a wife were supposed to make a child. Strangely enough it didn’t take long to conceive another child and after a few months Druella was pregnant for a third time, beginning to feel as if she spent most of her life pregnant.

But this pregnancy was not to last, and before the two month mark Druella bled out. The miscarriage was her first indication that she had been pregnant at all. She was devastated, heartbroken that her body had rejected the child. Cygnus was upset too, sure that the child had been a son. Druella spent the next four months in one of the bedrooms, not able to face her and Cygnus’s bed where she had lost the baby. Cygnus did not protest, the loss weighing heavily on his mind.

Because of her depression Druella missed a lot of Andromeda’s firsts, many of them the same ones she had enjoyed so much with Bellatrix. Crucial bonding time was lost, not because she meant to lose it, but because she could not will herself out of bed. In a way Druella was glad that the house elves took care of the baby and she was left only with Bellatrix who often came to sit on the bed and sing her mother songs and dance for her. It left her with a bad feeling that she was abandoning her other daughter but it was easier to deal with the child she had wanted. Bella didn’t understand what was wrong with her mother, only that she stayed in her room and didn’t want to play with her. This was distressing to the young girl because Andromeda was still too young to play really and the house elves were really no fun at all. 

Once Andromeda was crawling, Bella would follow her little sister around, making up games for the two of them to play, although most of them ended up with Bella narrating what her younger sister was doing while she followed behind, making sure the younger girl didn’t crawl into a table.

“No Andy!” Bella would exclaim. “Don’t crawl under the couch. Stay out here.” And usually her little sister would turn around and crawl towards the voice. Often the two of them would fall asleep right next to each other on the floor at nap time. That was one of Druella’s favorite things to see, big sister Bella curled protectively around her younger sister.

Eventually some of Druella’s friends forced her to come out of her room and have tea. They wanted to see her darling little girls and really, it was not healthy to stay shut up like that. Her friends would call; a house elf would carry Andromeda down, because she couldn’t handle stairs yet while Bella would stubbornly insist on climbing down on her own, although usually it meant either clasping the house elf’s hand for dear life or if she was in a great hurry, sitting and scooting along. Druella’s friends loved to watch the two girls play while they sipped at tea and tried to make Druella forget she had miscarried. “You can still have more children,” they insisted over and over.

It was this insistence that caused Druella to go back to her husband. This time it was her who wanted to try again but he was certainly more than willing. Another shot for the son he had yet to have. Some how Druella sensed it was going to be their last shot. Call it woman’s intuition, call it divination, she just knew that this was their last chance at having the son Cygnus always wanted. 

This last pregnancy was the most difficult one. Druella had morning sickness the entire first trimester, her feet swelled, she had food cravings, and finally in the last few months she was forced to bed rest, not allowed to leave the room, all meals brought up to her, the two toddlers often running in to visit. Bella was a bundle of energy, talking and walking all over and up to all sorts of trouble. Andromeda was a little more reserved but content to follow her big sister around, trying to mimic her big sister in all ways possible. Both girls were happy to sit on their mother’s bed for hours at a time, playing or coloring or sometimes they would take their nap there, simply because Druella felt guilty about not being able to be up and about with them. Druella was glad that the two of them got along and wanted to spend so much time with both her and each other.

With the other babies both being Autumn babies Druella felt strange knowing she would go into labor while the birds were singing and there were spring flowers in her room. The sickly sweet smell of narcissuses had been in the room ever since they started springing up in the garden. Bellatrix had been exploring outside ever since she had figured out she could get the house elves to follow her out and she had been dragging in flowers for her mother ever since. Bella seemed taken by the small paperwhites, but as March passed and most of that variety stopped blooming she had no trouble bringing the more yellow varieties in for Druella. Bellatrix dragged in other flowers as well, amaryllis and daffodils, snowdrops and primroses and crocuses. Little springs of bluebells and foxglove. Druella was a little worried that her daughter was going to pull up every living thing in the garden given her determination to cover the bedroom with flowers but one of the house elves assured her that wasn’t the case. Bellatrix loved to see the expression on her mother’s face when she presented her with flower, each time Druella lit up to think Bella was thinking of her, even if she felt a little stifled by the smell of all the flowers.

It was in this room surrounded by the smell of wilting flowers that Druella gave birth to her third girl, a girl that did not resemble the other two at all. Where the other two girls had dark hair this one was blonde. Where the other two girls had eyes that were consistently grey in color, this one had a hint of blue that peeked out from behind the grey.

This time Cygnus came to see the baby bringing his other two daughters at the request of his wife. He seemed partly resigned to the fact that his son, Cygnus Pollux Black, was not going to come about although he was by no means pleased about it. Leaving the two girls off in a corner with a house elf until they were called to come over, he approached his wife to see his new child. To his surprise he was pleased with what he saw. His new daughter was pretty and she was quiet. Quiet was good. He’d had enough of whiny screaming children.

Noticing the fact that Cygnus didn’t immediately push the baby away Druella asked, “Would you like to hold her?” 

Cygnus was slightly worried he’d break the small thing when she was handed to him, so quickly passed her back to her mother after just a few seconds. When the baby did not complain about being moved around he decided that he liked this one, this girl was acceptable.

“I want to see!” Bellatrix exclaimed from across the room, grumpy that she was not getting to see her new sister.

Cygnus scoffed at his impatient eldest daughter, the one who should have been a son, but called the two toddlers over to the bed, annoyed as he hoisted them up beside their mother.

“What’s its name?” Andromeda asked, confused about what she was seeing in front of her.

“Well, we haven’t picked one yet.” Druella explained to the to girls. “Do you want to help pick one? That is provided your father doesn’t want to name her.” But Cygnus clearly did not want to do that, having no idea about proper names for girls. He had only ever bothered to think up strong boy names, nothing for something small and delicate like this new child.

Bellatrix thrust the bouquet of flowers she had brought to give her mother at the baby. “Cissy,” she proclaimed. 

“Yes. She’s your sister,” Druella agreed, not understanding the girl was actually naming her sister.

“NO!” Bellatrix cried, insistently waving the flowers. While she had learned the full name for the flowers, narcissus was still a difficult thing for the girl to pronounce and for the most part she called them cissys. “Cissy. Cissy. Cissy.”

“What the hell is she saying?” Cygnus asked, annoyed with the girl. “Is she stupid?”

Bellatrix decided to try one last time, trying to pronounce the more difficult full name. “Nar-Cissy-Us.”

Druella laughed. “Cgynus, she wants to name her after the flowers.” Accepting the flowers from the girl she handed them off to one of the house elves to put in a vase. “They are her favorites. But it isn’t a star name.”

Looking at the delicate little flowers that Bellatrix had been tossing around Cygnus thought on the name. Obviously they could not name the child Narcissus, that was a boy’s name. But Narcissa would be appropriate for a girl, and the small blonde girl in front of him did remind him slightly of the delicate sweet smelling paperwhites that had taken over his wife’s room in the past few months. It would be fitting, provided they found an appropriate star themed middle name. 

“No. It’s not a star name, but it would fit her. I like it. Narcissa.”

“Narcissa it is then.” Druella agreed. “Alright Bellatrix. You get your Cissy.”

“She’ll need an appropriate middle name.” With these final words Cygnus felt he had spent enough time in the company of women and children for today. There were men downstairs waiting with cigars and scotch to properly congratulate him.

“Cissy. Cissy. Cissy,” Bellatrix babbled happily, leaning over her sister and making faces at the baby.

“Cissy,” Andromeda repeated, still a bit confused. But she followed her older sister’s example and peered in at the baby.

“Carinae would go well with Narcissa,” Druella’s mother offered. “And it’s a star.”

Druella smiled at her mother, it would go nicely with Narcissa. “Welcome to the family Narcissa Carinae Black.”


	3. A Spark of Magic

As interesting as her younger sisters were, Bellatrix had decided they weren’t much good for playing yet. Andromeda might have only been a year younger but Bella felt much older than her younger sister. And Narcissa! Narcissa was only two years old. That seemed like light years to Bella. She couldn’t remember what it was like to be two, or three, or four for that matter. Her sisters were babies in comparison to how big and grown up she was. Five and a half was really very old indeed!

Her sisters normally took a nap at this time. Being as she felt she was much too old for that the house elves forced her to be nice and quiet while her sisters rested. That was on days her tutor did not come. Three times a week another witch came by to teach her how to read, and also to speak French. She could read a little already, slowly, if she was willing to sit down and be diligent, which wasn’t very often, only if she was forced either by her tutor or one of the house elves on instructions from her parents. There were much more thrilling things that she could be doing then sitting still and trying to read. French was much of the same, sitting still and parroting back verb conjugations and vocabulary. She could already introduce herself in her lilting little girl accent, _Bonjour Madame. Je m’appelle Bellatrix. Comment allez-vous?_ This made her mother proud and Druella was constantly having the little girl show off to the rest of pureblood society.

But today, today the tutor had not been able to show up. Her parents weren’t around; her father was at the ministry and her mother out socializing. Neither was supposed to be back until after teatime. In the hour or two she had while her sisters slept Bella had convinced the elves to let her play in the garden instead of reading boring books in her room. Sure, one of them was following her around to make sure nothing happened but the elf had to take orders from her, including playing any game she wanted with her such as hopscotch or tag.

With the normal limited attention span of a typical five year old, Bella forced the elf through various different games before getting bored with them all. The elf seemed happy and slightly relived to watch the girl instead of being involved with playing and subsequently losing to the little girl. The elf was capable of winning being older and knowing the games better but elves belonging to the Blacks knew better then to play to win. While Narcissa didn’t know the difference and Andromeda didn’t seem to care yet, Bellatrix did not like losing. She’d change rules to give herself an advantage, give her mother an adorable pour, anything that would ensure she would come out on top in the end. 

She had exhausted her list of games finding them all to be very unsatisfactory in the entertainment department. She was a little frustrated with herself- a whole free afternoon and all she had thought to do with it was play several normal everyday games? She should be doing something exciting, some sort of exhilarating adventure! That was what she was looking for now, as she wandered about the garden, pulling leaves and flowers off of plants and shredding them with her fingers, leaving a small trail of shredded plant life behind her as she went. 

Ooohh! Maybe she could lose the guardian elf. That would be exciting!

“Stay Back!” she demanded, turning to face the house elf and pointing to demonstrate her point. “No getting close to me. I don’t like it.”

Her house elf had no choice but to obey. He couldn’t go against a direct order from a member of the family, no matter how young she might be. He might be under strict orders from the master and missus to keep a close eye on her but he felt as long as he could see young Bella he could keep her safe and still follow the girl’s own orders.

For a while Bella was content to shred more plants while she waited for the perfect moment to escape from the watchful elf. It seemed to be content to stay at a distance she found acceptable but she wanted to be completely free of it, then she could do whatever she wanted. Even though the house elf had to take orders from her, the elves were instructed to do whatever it took to make sure she stayed safe. Once when she tried to climb into one of the fountains to splash one had apparated her back inside, much to her dismay. If she wanted to have fun, Bella knew she had to lose the elf.

She quickened her pace ever so slightly, since the elf wasn’t paying the best attention to her. It seemed to think it could follow her based on the trail of plant matter she was leaving behind. Bella starting shredding less and less plant life in order to make the trail disappear. The elf wouldn’t know what happened until it was too late.

Sure enough, as she rounded the next hedge she disappeared from the elf’s view completely and took off running as fast as her little legs could carry her. This was adventure! Escaping from the elf that wouldn’t know she was missing until it could not find her anymore! Her feet pounded against the garden paving stones, darting this way and that, trying to make it impossible for the elf to follow her on foot. The gardens at Black Manor were extensive, giving the little girl plenty of room to run. The house elf following her was unused to such escape attempts, more used to dealing with adults and wasn’t sure what to do when it came to hunting down the girl. Bella secretly laughed when she heard it calling her name, trying to figure out where she went. She wasn’t going to reveal herself now that she had broken free. Now she could explore and do whatever she wanted. If she wanted to climb in a fountain there was no one to stop her. If she wanted to climb a tree she could go all the way to the top unhindered. 

There were lots of things to do in the garden but now that she was alone she couldn’t seem to decide on one particular thing. She began to wish her sisters were old enough to play with her; it would be more fun to be running around with them than wandering about on her own. But her sisters were upstairs sleeping and if she was to sneak into the house to try to get them a house elf would no doubt attach itself to her and losing two house elves in one day was more than she could ask for. 

She had to content herself with wandering while she searched for something to complete the adventure before the house elf hunted her down. She was further away from the house than she had ever gone before. Out here the flower gardens were a little more wild, clearly not having been tended as well as the immaculate beds near the house. Those beds Bellatrix was already very familiar with, as she had been bringing those flowers into the house since she had been allowed outside. Flowers from those beds currently occupied many rooms of the house thanks to her nimble hands and fondness for the colors. But out here! Out here there were weeds growing, something she had never seen before since those other beds had been spelled to repeal such things. Bellatrix didn’t know this and was amazed at how tall some of these new plants were the further out she got. Some of them were as tall as she was. Immediately the girl started scheming to build a fort with her sisters, or actually, make the house elves fashion a fort out of the weeds so that the three of them could play in it. 

Pushing through these nifty weeds, Bellatrix came upon a bit of a clearing. Inside the clearing there was a small pond, murky with algae. As she approached the water, a few tiny toads jumped out of her path making little ripples. She enjoyed the effect and grabbed a few pebbles off the bank and threw them into the water to emulate the splashing the toads had made. Pebbles turned into bigger stones and soon Bella wanted bigger splashes. Spying a rock alongside the water she decided that if she climbed up on top the stones she threw would make more water fly into the air. Filling her white pinafore pockets with more of the slightly slimy stones from the water’s edge she approached the rock looking for a way to properly climb up to the top. 

Walking around the obstacle she happily found that the other side had a few more rocks and dirt that almost made a ramp up to the wide flat top of the rock. Grabbing the edge of the big rock, Bella hoisted herself up the last few inches only to surprise a grass snake that had been sunning itself. It was hard to tell which was more startled, the smallish reptile or the young girl who let out a scream as the animal slithered down the rock to get away from the disturbance. Bellatrix had never seen such a creature before and when it slid into the water she determined it was a small monster out to gather its monster friends, which were sure to come and eat her.

In her fright a strange thing happened. Bella screamed out of terror which alerted the house elf to her whereabouts, it’s bat like ears heightening the sense of hearing for the creature desperately searching for its young charge. But instead of one crack of elf apparition that happened when the elf appeared beside her, two happened. In Bella’s fright she blew up the offensive snake. The force of the young girl’s unintentional magic hit the water and snake with such force that snake guts, algae, pebbles and water flew everywhere, essentially covering the little girl, which only caused her to scream more.

“Miss Bellatrix? Miss Bellatrix?” the worried elf asked, only to be met with wide-eyed terror from the girl whose dress was damp from water and now had bits of snake stuck to her face and hair. Bella had seen magic before but she certainly had not experienced doing any herself, nor had any of the magic she had seen ended up all over her. 

Frightened, covered in slime and uncomforted by the house elf, Bella called for the person who could fix all. “MMMMMOOOOOOOOOOMMMMMMMMMMMYYYYYYYYY!!!!!” 

Tears started to flow from her eyes as she continued to scream for her mother. The frightened elf quickly whisked her back to the house in order to get cleaned up only to run into the woman in question.

“Mommy! I want my mommy!”

Druella had just Floo’d in, getting back early from her social engagement, when she was confronted by the sight of a house elf trying to drag a slimy, screaming Bellatrix upstairs for a bath.

“What is going on here?”

Hearing her mother’s voice, Bella pushed the elf off her with all the force she could manage and ran to the woman, burying her face in her skirts, continuing to cry. Druella quickly knelt down to wrap her daughter in a hug, stroking Bella’s hair to clam the girl down. Her question had still not been answered and a stern look at the house elf was all it took for the creature to start talking.

“Miss Bellatrix wanted to go out into the garden during nap time Missus. So Knobby went out with her, like Knobby is supposed to.” Now the elf started wringing its hands together, clearly worried about the events that had followed. “But Miss Bellatrix ran away from Knobby and Knobby couldn’t find her. Knobby didn’t know what to do until he heard Miss Bellatrix scream and he went right to her side.” Unsure of what else to say the elf grew silent, hands having moved on to pulling on its ears. 

“Why is my daughter covered in… gunk?”

“Miss Bellatrix was down by one of the ponds. She got scared and blew up a snake. But the snake was already in the pond and it caused snake and pond to fly up and land all over Miss Bellatrix.”

Hearing the elf recount the events Bella sniffed into her mothers dress. “It was scary and mean looking. It was going to eat me.”

Druella made a few comforting sounds as she rubbed Bella’s back, unhappy about the pond water that was now all over the carpet and her dress. Then she realized the implications of the elf’s words.

“She blew it up? _Bellatrix_ blew up the snake?” The elf nodded in response and Druella pulled Bellatrix away from her enough so that she could look her daughter in the eyes. “Bella? Did you blow up the snake?”

“It was scary. I screamed and it went BOOM!” Bella said resolutely. As she emphasized the last word a bit of snake flew off her and Druella struggle to contain a bit of laughter. 

“Bella, do you know what you did?”

“Something bad?”

“Oh no! No honey. You did something good. You did your first magic!”

Bella frowned at her mother. 

“You blew up the snake didn’t you?”

She nodded.

“Did you touch it?”

Bella shook her head no.

“Then you did it with magic. It means you are a witch like mommy.”

Bella seemed to accept this information as it was the most natural thing in the world. Of course she was like mommy. Were people stupid? It was obvious she was like mommy. “Ok. I want a bath now. I’m covered in icky.”

By this point Andromeda and Narcissa had heard the commotion and were peering through the railing a floor up. “Why is Bella dirty?” Andromeda asked. Narcissa merely sucked her thumb, staring at her older sister with wide eyes. 

“Narcissa, get your thumb out of your mouth.” Druella frowned at her youngest child's bad habit before answering the question. “Your sister just did her first bit of magic but it caused her to get all dirty. She’ll get all fixed up with a bath and then tonight we are going to celebrate.”

“Cake?” asked Narcissa.

With Bella following behind her, Druella made her way up the stairs. “We’re going to let Bella pick the treat,” she told Narcissa hoisting her daughter onto her hip. “When you do your first magic you can pick the treat.” With that she led all three girls upstairs to get Bella cleaned up and so that her oldest could tell her the full story of the event. 

Instructions were given to a house elf to make Bella’s favorite meal for dinner. There had never really been any question that Bellatrix was going to be a witch, after all in the hundreds of years the Blacks had been around only one squib had come out. Druella had never even thought of the possibility. Bellatrix’s first bit of magic was still cause for celebration. By the time Cygnus got home from the ministry, the female members of his family were washed and dressed for dinner, pretty, lacy dresses on all three of his daughters. 

“What’s the occasion?” he asked Druella, giving her a peck on the cheek, propriety over feeling.  
“Well,” Druella said with a big smile on her face. “Your daughter did her first magic today and I thought we should celebrate.”

“I blew up a snake,” Bella proclaimed proudly.

“Did you?” Cygnus asked, being rewarded with a fervent nod on Bellatrix’s part. “I guess a celebration is in order.” 

“I let Bella pick the meal so we are having macaroni and cheese. Followed by ice cream.”

Cygnus raised his eyebrows at his wife; a little disturbed that the girl had been given so much reward for something that was natural. Had it been up to him, he’d had given her a small treat and been done with it. There was no need to reward her with an entire dinner, now the other two girls were going to expect it. 

“Cygnus. It’s her _first magic._ ”

The three girls were already headed toward the dining room so they missed the hushed whispers between their parents that clearly stated their father did not approve of these actions. Druella disagreed, first magic had been celebrated in her household and she intended to mark the special event for her girls. If she had time before dinner to go out and buy Bella a present she would have. In fact, the next time she went shopping she fully intended on buying her daughter a little trinket, maybe a charm bracelet with a little snake charm, which would be appropriate. Cygnus didn’t mind spoiling his daughters, they were Blacks and no child of his was ever going to want for anything, but to let a five year old pick a meal seemed overkill to him. Giving her a special treat made sense, and he didn’t mind paying attention to the event, but to force all of them to eat Bella’s current favorite food seemed overkill. However he ended up conceding to his wife, it wouldn’t kill him to eat the pasta, and all three girls seemed excited. If it made Narcissa happy he could live with it for one night, but he hoped that when she did her first bit of magic she’d pick something he’d find more delectable. 

Bella regaled them all with the tale of the snake, how she escaped from the house elf and discovered really tall plants and then found a humongous snake that tried to attack her and she blew it up! Her story had gotten a tad grander from when she told her mother that afternoon. Cygnus nodded along at his daughter while Narcissa watched with wide eyes, fork stopped halfway to her mouth. Andromeda wished she had gotten to explore with her sister and Druella smiled indulgently at the exaggerations added to the story. Overall it was a happy night in the Black family, house elf that was supposed to be watching Bellatrix included. With all the excitement over the bit of magic, not one of the family members had increased his punishment and he only ran into the wall three times for losing the girl.


	4. Snips and Snails and Puppydog Tails

Orion and Walburga Black were a strange match. When their engagement was formally announced it cause a bit of talk in society. Not because both were Blacks by birth, the Noble House of Black was not the only pureblood family to marry their own cousins. The real feat was if you managed to marry someone you were not related to. They were not first cousins so there was no reason for anyone to be disturbed by this fact. Second cousins had married before. Even the age difference was not particularly strange with Walburga being the elder, four years older than her husband.

What did make it unusual was that Walburga had been informally engaged to the younger Goyle. He was a year younger then her and their engagement would have been formalized once he had graduated, but practically the minute he left Hogwarts he went missing. Two months later an owl showed up at the Goyle residence to inform them that he had eloped with the Rookwood girl in his year. The pair was shunned from society’s parties that year and family connections between the Goyles, Blacks, and Rookwoods were on shaky ground for a while.

After a while, people got over it. The boy the Rookwood girl was supposed to marry found someone else, the couple was accepted back into society-after all they were both purebloods of good families, and the family connections were fixed. But Walburga did not have another suitor. Plenty of men danced with her at balls and flirted with her at dinner parties but no marriage offers came to Pollux Black for her. He thought it was strange, being that she was a Black, but Walburga seemed unconcerned about the whole matter. Sooner or later she would get married because that was what pureblood girls did. She did not consider herself damaged goods simply because her engagement had never come to fruition. It was a little hurtful, she had gotten used to whom she was supposed to marry and did not particularly like who was currently available. Bunch of ninnies.

Conversely Arcturus Black was getting offers from all the best families for his only son Orion. Orion had other ideas. As the sole heir to his father’s fortune, he had no intention on marrying one of the stupid flighty girls that kept being offered to him. They were fine for a fling but he could not imagine being attached to one the rest of his life. Growing up alongside Cygnus, he had seen how his cousin’s freedom had been attached to the young Rosier girl. The same fate did not appeal to him. He would prefer to follow the example of his other cousin, Alphard, who was also carefully avoiding the marriage topic. 

Orion and Cygnus had gone through school at the same time, practically twins except for the fact they were cousins. Born in the same year, two months apart and with the similar Black looks it was not completely unusual for people to mistake one for the other, especially since they had similar personalities and often reacted to things in the same way. Cygnus tended to be a little more promiscuous, Orion slightly politer. Orion had seen his cousin be saddled with a bride, a girl he hardly knew. If he was going to get married he was going to find someone who was not going to be hassle to upkeep, would still be a tribute to him and his family, and was not insufferable.

It was not until after Orion had graduated that someone suggested he marry Walburga. He hardly gave it a second thought. It was not until he saw her at Cygnus and Druella’s wedding that he started seriously considering it. She was attractive and she was not a dolt; he liked her perfectly fine. He approached Pollox Black about the matter two days later. What he did not know was that Walburga had gotten someone to suggest the idea to him. One of her friends teased her that it would be like marrying her brother since there were so alike but Walburga scoffed at such a statement. Orion was not Cygnus. 

Orion proposed within the month. Not because he especially liked her more than anyone else, but it made sense to marry someone he already knew well then someone he’d end up hating in a few years. Walburga said yes because it was convenient. Marrying him would stop her from fielding the tiring questions about possibly fiancées and family relations that had plagued her since she was jilted. But their wedding needed to wait. Cygnus was getting married to Druella that year; everything was planned and set. The two sets of parents did not want the two couples weddings to overlap in people’s memories. Weddings were a great time to show how well off in society they were. They needed to be memorable, separately.

Since Druella and Cygnus were set to be married that summer, Orion and Walburga’s wedding was set for two years later, in the autumn of 1951. It was just as grand and lavish as the wedding two years prior, sure to be the talk of the season. The Blacks made their point well. No one else had a more extravagant wedding. But people could not help but talk about the fact Walburga Black was supposed to have married a Goyle. After all, the man, wife and child were sitting in the back row. However, it did not take away from the event itself and no one could deny that Walburga made a beautiful bride. A few perceptive people noticed that she had put on a bit of weight since her former fiancée left her, which only added to the fodder for the gossiping socialites as they discussed the wedding for months. Exactly as Orion and Walburga’s parents had wanted.

They two moved into the Black residence at 12 Grimmauld Place. Orion wanted to be in London because he enjoyed working closely with the ministry, unlike his cousin who preferred to be involved via monetary bribes. Walburga did not care much where they lived. Purebloods tended to live either in London or in various manors around the countryside, but since they were all connected via Floo it would not be any trouble to visit any of her friends. Apparition tended to make her slightly nauseous. 12 Grimmauld place was big enough to host parties, even with a small bit of garden out back if she wished to hold garden events so she was content to live wherever her husband chose. However, she was a tiny bit jealous that Cygnus got the bigger manor simply because he got married first. She had been supposed to marry first and she would have liked a manor. 

Mostly the two of them existed as two separate beings that shared a bed and nothing more. Orion had his business with the ministry and Walburga had her social events. They rarely even slept together. On their wedding night Walburga couldn’t help but notice the resemblance to her own brother and it made her feel a bit odd. Over the years she got used to it, reminding herself that Orion was not Cygnus, just as she had done to her friends so many years before. Strangely, Orion did not seem to mind much. She took it as a sign he was having an affair. That was untrue. He simply did not mind. Perhaps he also found it weird to be married to a woman he had grown up with. If he did, he did not say a word.

But after the birth of their second niece they both seemed to realize that they were supposed to be producing children and they were not going to get anywhere they way they were going about it. Walburga was the one who took charge, reminding Orion of the need for an heir. By the time Narcissa had been born it was clear that Cygnus and Druella were not going to be producing one. That meant it was up to them. Walburga got a bit of pride out of this. When she had a son, for she was going to have a son, he would inherit everything between the two families. Alphard proving he was going to stay a bachelor.

By the time Walburga got pregnant, Orion was thrilled with the idea of having a son of his own, his wife continuously telling him she knew it would be a son. They prepared for having a child, getting a nursery all set out, picking out a name, etc. Final decisions were supposed to be left to Orion but, to anyone who overheard the couple talking, it was clear that Walburga managed to convince her husband of what she wanted. Orion was easily prodded in the direction she wanted when need be. She only needed to make him think it was what he wanted. However, it was Orion who stated he did not wish the child to be named directly after him. Nursery decisions he did not care about, but he did care about what to name his son. He picked out a name of grandeur, the name of his respected and beloved grandfather, the name of the brightest star in the sky.

Just as 1959 was coming to a close, an heir was born to the Black family. Sirius Orion Black decided to appear to the world, as if he was a gift, on December Twenty Ninth, two weeks before everyone assumed he would be born. Walburga had a fast delivery; Sirius was ready to be the center of attention. Hardly any relatives had managed to show up before the baby was heard crying in the bedroom, but they showed up shortly after.

That was exactly what he was from day one, the center of attention. All his family was at his birth, excepting his three female cousins who had already gone to bed when the house elf appeared to inform the adults. But excepting the three girls, everyone was there, grandparents, aunts and uncles. The house was full the night that Sirius decided to appear, most people in a state of half sleep, it being was the middle of the night. It was a momentous occasion, the birth of the heir to the Black line. 12 Grimmauld Place was full of people for weeks, family members dropping in to check on the child. Everyone wanted a piece of him, wanted to coo over his crib and congratulate Orion and Walburga on such a fine looking son.

His cousins were brought over to meet him. Narcissa was not really sure what to think. He was little and a baby and not really very interesting. He was sleeping and she could not play with him. Andromeda tended to agree with her younger sister. Sleeping babies really didn’t account for much, but they both could agree they liked the aura of excitement that filled the house. There were all sorts of treats too. Family members had brought all sorts of gifts for the new parents, who had laid a lot of the candy and chocolate out for visiting family members. The baby might not have been exciting but the candy was. They glanced over the baby, but were happier when they were sent down the stairs for that was where all the treats and goodies were.

However, the little thing in front of her did not impress Bellatrix. She was six years old, a big girl, she could do magic and talk and be interesting. So why was everyone so interested in the baby who seemed to do nothing more than sleep and cry.

“What is so special about him?” she demanded. It was a serious question. She could find no reason why the baby was so special. He was not interesting at all. Why was everyone acting like he was the best thing in the world?

“He’s a boy.” Her father answered directly. 

“He’s special because he is a boy?” Bella was indignant. The baby was sleeping and he got to be special? How stupid. He wasn’t even doing anything; his thumb wasn’t even in his mouth. He could not possibly be more boring.

“Yes,” Druella quickly answered, hoping to stop the girl’s questions.

“That’s stupid. Why are boys special? He can’t even do anything.” Bella glared at the baby. “You are boring.” 

The baby continued to sleep, but Cygnus was not happy with his daughter. Druella continued to try to avoid the altercation that was brewing. “Boys carry on the family name so there will always be Blacks.”

“I’M A BLACK TOO!” Bella’s eyes narrowed at her mother. This baby was not special just because it was a boy. People should not be fawning over something that couldn’t even do anything. She was special. She could already do magic. Maybe she could blow up the teddy bear that was sitting next to the baby. Then everyone would see that she was the special one.

At Bella’s yelling, Cygnus grabbed his daughter by the arm and half dragged her out into the hallway, pushing her against the wall, his finger in her face. “He is special. You are not. You will get married and you will no longer _be_ a Black. He will always be a Black. You will not make any more outbursts or ask any more stupid questions. You will be silent, like a girl should be.”

His words shocked little Bellatrix into silence. Her father had never said nice things to her but he had never yelled at her before, not like this. Her silence satisfied his desire to make an impression and she was sent her off towards the stairs. She could join her sisters and occupy herself out of sight, where he did not have to be reminded of her, not while his sister had managed to have a son. All three of his daughters could stay downstairs until it was time to leave and Druella collected them. With them out of his sight he could pretend that he had sons.

Meanwhile, inside the room as Druella and a few other relatives continued to admire the baby, Walburga felt the need to comment on Bellatrix’s behavior. She was feeling more than a little smug that she had produced the heir. Her first child was a boy and Druella’s was Bellatrix. She had nothing against the girl, but the child had set up a perfect jab at Druella, made to make herself look better. “Headstrong girl. Doesn’t know her place in the world.”

Druella couldn’t disagree with her. Bellatrix might only be a child but her comments were still inappropriate. Especially here, around the mother who had produced a son. But that didn’t mean Druella wanted to hear her child being devalued, as the other woman in the room murmured their agreement with Walburga. 

“She’s spirited. She’s still young.” Druella had to say it, but it was barely more then a whisper. No one was going to agree with her in this room, they were all admiring the baby. It was clear to Druella that her daughters would always play second fiddle to this boy, no matter what happened.

He was a wonder, a tiny little bundle of what any Black would consider perfection. Even at only a few weeks old it was clear he had inherited his father’s good looks, as expected. Not that Sirius could escape the Black looks, with both parents being a Black. He was a Black through and through, every ounce of his genes spoke to it. The amount of people who came to admire him only solidified his place in the world, before he was old enough to understand it.


	5. An Early Lesson in Weakness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Physical abuse of a child.

* * *

It was always one thing or another with that girl, completely unsuitable things for a girl. Skinned knees, torn dresses, twigs in her hair, yelling like a banshee. He could never remember his sister doing any of those things. Druella said all the young children Bella’s age acted like that, but he was doubtful. The boys, yes, the boys would be doing those things. But not the girls. Girls were quieter, less rambunctious. Like Narcissa. She could sit quietly and play with her dolls, fancy little tea parties in the corner. When Bella played with dolls it was _loud_ and being left out of doors had _ruined_ more than one. Even the other one, the middle girl, whatever her name was, could lie quietly on the floor and read picture books. His other daughters acted like girls. Bella was loud. Bella was boisterous. Bella reminded him of a little boy.

This thought was stronger when the young boys her age were over with their mothers. When Evan Rosier, Rodolphus Lestrange and Lucius Malfoy were over, Bellatrix wanted to play with them. Not in a quiet fashion either, she never asked them to join in a tea party. She’d join in their games in the garden and played just as rough. Sometimes she even won. It was not seemly.

When he talked to Druella about it, she would remind him that one of the little boys she played with now could later become Bellatrix’s future husband.

“Don’t break bonds,” she’d insist. The boys that came over were all from good families, families that were of the right standing. It was true, at least one of the families they would likely be related to in the future. More than likely they would find themselves related to three of the families, after all he had three daughters. That did not excuse Bellatrix’s behavior. Why couldn’t she act like a girl? Druella would remind him that when Isolde Nott and Bernadette Macnair were over she did act more like a girl, more prim and proper.

That did not make him any happier. He saw the way she played with other girls, she was a leader, could convince her girl friends to play whatever game she wanted, and more then once he had seen her convince the others to run around in the garden and they all came back with twigs in their hair. Probably climbing trees. Girls were not supposed to climb trees. Oh sure, he saw their tea parties, but he still seemed to find something wrong with his eldest daughter. The two other girls would happily sit there, in pressed dresses and pinafores, lifting the little teacups to their dolls faces. His daughter would bring mud pies to the table and try to feed her doll that, streaks of dirt down her pinafore. Isolde and Bernadette acted like girls, Bellatrix did not. It was as simple as that.

She was wrong. That was all he could see when he looked at her. She was wrong. Wild when she should go unnoticed. Loud when she should be quiet. She talked too much, did not play with the right toys, even the impish grin she got on her face when she pulled a prank on a house elf was wrong. It was boyish. Bellatrix was a girl. Bad enough he had a daughter, why was he stuck with one that had to act like a boy? 

The only way she was entirely a girl? Emotions. The girl was entirely too emotional. Little things would inflame her temper, and she was constantly getting into situations that caused her to cry. That was the worse. He hated crying. The noise, the sight of a child’s face squeezed up into that hideous position, the wetness. It was disgusting. No one should cry. Babies cried but then a person grew out of it. His daughter had not grown out of it. It only solidified her weakness in his mind. He was always seeing her crying at one thing or another. If she did not run around like a boy he was sure this wouldn’t be happening. He never saw his others daughters crying, Narcissa and Andreamena. Only Bellatrix. 

Bellatrix would run around outside and something would happen and she would start crying. He could hear it in his study. Her screaming, he could hear it right now. Merlin, she needed to shut up. Why were the house elves not shutting her up? He was working, did not want to hear that caterwauling. “Make her shut up,” he muttered to no one. But the noise continued. 

That was it. He was not going to take it anymore. This had to stop. Pushing his chair back from his desk, he stood up and left the room to hunt down the source of the sound. It was not far away. Bellatrix was sitting right inside one of the French doors in the other room, face dirty and streaked with tears. He could not imagine what she had been up to, nor did he care. The house elf at her feet had yet to shut her up. That was what mattered. The fact that she cried far too often when she should not cry at all; she was disturbing him right now.

Walking up to the pair, he kicked the house elf to the side, effectively dismissing it for the time being, the matter of the crying child needing to be dealt with. Grabbing his daughter by the arm he hoisted her to her feet. “Stop crying.” That’s all he felt he needed to say. He was the man of the house and had issued a direct order.

She did not. For whatever reason, whatever inane reason had her crying in front of him, she did not stop the flow of tears immediately. Unacceptable. It was bad that she was crying at her age. It was worse that she continued to cry when he ordered her to stop. She was supposed to listen to him. Not only ‘suppose to,’ she _had_ to. If she was not going to stop because he instructed her to, there were other ways.

A raised hand and a few seconds later the girl was on the floor again, clutching her cheek. Bellatrix stared up at him, wide eyes filling with tears. She looked up at him, hurt and confused, people were supposed to give her nice things when she cried. Everyone did. It confirmed his belief that she did it for the attention, that wide eyed look.

“There will be no more tears from you. No more crying.” He roughly pulled her to her feet again, pushing her against the open French door. “Understand?”

His daughter merely stared at him but he assumed she got the general idea. Or at least he did until another tear trickled down her face. Blasted girl couldn’t take a single order. Grabbing her by the shoulders he shook her, “I said _no_ crying. Stop immediately.”

He could not be sure if she was trying to stop or trying to infuriate him, probably the latter, because the more he looked at her and ordered her to stop the more she seemed to cry. He hit her again, his hand throwing the other half of her face into the door. “Crying is a weakness. Are you weak?”

His daughter continued to stare at him, little hands clutching her face, a bit of fear in her eyes along with the tears. 

“Answer the question.”

Bellatrix shook her head, tentatively, as if she didn’t know what he wanted. Apparently she was too stupid to understand. 

“I do not accept weakness, Bellatrix. Babies are weak. Are you a baby?”

That question got her attention because she shook her head vehemently. “I’m not a baby.”

“Babies are the only ones that cry.”

He watched as she blinked a few times, the tears starting to disappear. But it was not fast enough, not when the order to stop crying had occurred minutes ago. Grabbing her hair, he threw her to the floor. “When I say stop, you stop at once.”

She curled into a little ball in front of him, face squeezed shut for a moment before turning her face up towards him. “Not crying.” Her lower lip continued to tremble but her eyes were dry. Acceptable, but only just so.

“No more crying from now on.”

Bella nodded.

“Say it.”

“No more crying.” A sharp look had her quickly adding, “sir.”

“Get her cleaned up,” he instructed the elf as he shoved his daughter its way. The matter was over. Cygnus felt confident the girl would not disturb him with her waterworks any longer. No more tears, no more noise, it had been productive. Leaving Bellatrix with the elf, he headed back to his study. 

 

* * *

Apparently though, his actions were not enough. Coming home from a meeting of his friends he walked into the house to hear her crying again. Damn that girl. Couldn’t she head a simple instruction? How hard was it for her to not cry? It wasn’t hard; he knew it wasn’t hard. If she were a boy, she wouldn’t be crying. A boy would have known, simple as that. He would not have needed to instruct a boy. Instead he had an idiot girl who apparently needed to be taught her lesson more than once. 

He followed the noise upstairs to find Druella sitting beside her daughter trying to comfort her. “It’s okay Bella, it was just a little scrape, you’ll-“

“What is going on?” he demanded, interrupting his wife. 

“Bella was trying to get something off one of the shelves and fell and scraped her knee.”

Crying over a scraped knee? Cygnus was disgusted. As his wife started to assure him Bellatrix was unhurt he interrupted her. “Not what I was asking. The crying.”

“She was startled and there-“

“Shut up Druella. Bellatrix knows better than to cry.”

“She’s six, of course she doesn’t-“

He ignored her and she grew silence when he hauled Bella to her feet. “I told you no more crying.”

“But…but…it hurt. I…”

Her protests were cut short by his backhand. He did not want to hear her pathetic excuses. She had been instructed to not cry, she had understood; therefore she was not going to cry. No one disobeyed him in his house.

“I told you not to cry.”

“Cygnus!” Druella exclaimed at the same time, scooting over to her daughter to bundle her up. “She’s a child!” 

“Old enough to know how to obey orders.” He reached for Bellatrix but his wife moved the girl behind her. “Druella…”

“Cygnus, she doesn’t know any better.”

“Then she will learn. Move.”

“Cygnus, she’s only-“

“MOVE. Do not make me draw my wand.”

At his words, Druella moved. Bellatrix grabbed onto her mother’s skirts, but Cygnus’s foot quickly disengaged her hand. Druella was hesitant, merely inches away, looking worried and anxious. The little girl looked up at him, stealing furtive glances at her mother. Apparently she thought the woman was going to protect her. But this was his domain, and Druella obeyed him. 

Moving in between Bellatrix and Druella, he looked down at his daughter. “I told you not to cry.”

She didn’t look at him, her eyes wide trying to get her mother’s attention. “It _hurt_ ,” she insisted, sure her mother would come back and comfort her.

“No. This hurts.” A swift kick to her leg caused her to cry out, those damned tears spilling from her eyes. Pathetic, sniveling creature. “This hurts.” Grabbing her hair, he dragged her to her feet, her legs scrambling to get under herself. “Crying is weakness. I will not tolerate it.”

Now that she had something to actually cry about, the useless chit did not seem to be able to stop the flow of tears. “Do you need more things to cry about?”

“Cygnus, I’m sure-“ 

Cygnus whirled around to face his wife, eyes dark, hand still fisted in Bellatrix’s hair. “I’m teaching her a lesson. One she failed to learn last time.” 

“But she’s only a child. You don’t need to hit her.”

“Alright, you teach her.” He threw the girl at her mother, certain that Druella was not going to be able to make her stop crying. In the end he knew it was up to him. Let Druella try, if she was so against him hitting her. His father hit him, and he turned out perfect. Father had hit Walburga too, and look at her. And Alphard. All three of them strong, capable, people. If Bellatrix was going to grow up to be anyone worth looking at, it was clear that she needed the same treatment.

“Bella, doll, your father doesn’t like it when you cry.” Druella was stroking the girls hair, cuddling the brat. The girl’s face was hidden by her mother, but he could tell she was still crying. Muffled words he couldn’t make out came from Bellatrix. “You need to stop crying dear, we don’t want to upset your father.”

“He hurt me.”

That’s what she was crying about now? This was tiring. 

“Your father doesn’t like to be disturbed.”

“He hurt me!”

“He wants you to stop crying. You need to stop crying.”

Clearly, Druella was getting nowhere. Cygnus grabbed the curly black hair again, dragging her away from Druella. “I told you she needed to be taught a lesson. Coddling does nothing for a child. Makes them weak.” 

Druella’s mouth opened in protest, reaching for her daughter, but a glare from Cygnus had her running from the room, having seen that look before. He turned his attention back to the six year old before him. “When I tell you to do something, you do it immediately.” Smack. “You will stop crying, or I will spank you for every tear I see.”

Her face was red from his hand, her little hands tugging at the hand in her hair, but tears still flowed. Summoning a chair over to him, he sat down, upending the girl on his lap to make good his promise. “Every tear, Bellatrix, until you stop.”

He did not bother to count how many times he had to hit her. Eventually he was successful, she made no more noise, no more of that horrendous sniffling. Tossing her from his lap onto the ground, he stood. “Look at me, Bellatrix.”

Her face turned towards his, eyes wide, but empty of tears. Her lower lip was firmly between her teeth but it did not tremble. She was cured. But to avoid this from happening again, he reiterated his promise, “Every tear you cry, anytime, equals one hit. I will not tolerate any more crying from you. You are not a baby.”

She shrank away from him at his words, but he could tell he made his point. His work was done.

 

Later, that night Druella confronted him. She had run to Bella the minute she saw Cygnus leave the room to comfort the girl. Feeling terrible about leaving her child, she had given the girl candy, expecting her to again start crying but Bella didn’t shed a tear. All Druella could do was hold the girl and give her bruise balm for the places sure to bruise. It was awful, feeling so helpless next to your daughter, not knowing what she could do to help. That was when she had made up her mind to talk to him.

“Cygnus, you don’t need to be so harsh on her. She’s only a child.”

“Start young. Prevents trouble.” 

“Children cry, it’s only natural.”

“Babies cry. My children do not cry. I will not stand for it. If they cry, they get punished. A child does something wrong and he gets punished. Crying is one of those things.” Cygnus was turned away from her, so he did not see the horror pass across her face. Bellatrix was six, but Andromeda and Narcissa younger yet, and they still cried, like any child. He wouldn’t hit baby Narcissa, would he? She was only a toddler. 

“Hit me instead.” The words came out as desperate as she felt. 

Cygnus turned in surprise; he had not been expecting that. “What?”

“They are still so young, hit me instead.” Her panic was bubbling up in her throat, clear on her face. “Anytime they do something wrong. Take it out on me.”

“As you wish.”

Druella breathed an audible sigh of relief. 

“But you must keep them in line. They will not go running amok due to this decision.” Cygnus did not really care who he hit, as long as the children got the message. If Druella wanted to take their punishment in favor of trying to keep them in line on her own, he was agreeable, provided they did behave.

His wife nodded, not fully realizing what it meant, taking on the punishment of two toddlers and a six year old. Little children get into a lot of scrapes. All she knew was they were safe. For now.


	6. Everything in its Place

The tea party with Narcissa had been a lot of fun, although they had not been allowed real food at the table. Teatime was going to be an event today, mummy had a friend over. Cissy, being younger (and infinitesimally more spoiled already) had refused to pick anything up, and of course Bella had suggested that she leave it for the house elf that cleaned their nursery. Andy had been content to leave it for a while, laying on her stomach on the floor, picture book in front of her. But later, after Cissy had started a project involving everyone’s dolls and then abandoned it, Andy had started to want her things where they belonged. There were the dolls over by Narcissa’s bed and there were books of hers scattered about the room, and the tea set still lay out. Andromeda couldn’t wait for the house elf that cleaned while they slept. She didn’t even think about calling it up there to clean, although she could have. She often forgot about it. They were also busy, it would be just as fast if she did it herself, she thought, forgetting the elves’ magic.

After collecting all her things, Andromeda sat down in front of her in order to set things to right. She liked it when everything was in its place. It was nice, the organization. Something she could control and set to rights. Other things that went wrong she had no control over, but if the bookcase was messy, she could clean that. In a way it was soothing. 

First she set all the tea things in their place, organizing them in a way she would like, and started to wipe them off, one at a time, carefully putting them back in the same place. The dolls she handled much the same, although there was nothing she could do about the rumpled skirts. Narcissa had redressed the dolls in clothes appropriate to her play and the play had caused the perfect press in the doll dresses to fade away. That would have to wait for the house elves. The books would be easier to deal with if she dragged them all off the shelf first. Then she could put them in order so she’d know where to find the one she wanted when she wanted it. 

The task was harder than she thought. She would not be six for another few months. While she knew her ABC’s, trying to put her books in that exact order was a lot harder than reciting was. Andromeda had to keep going over the order in her head in order to figure it out. Only ten books sat in the bookshelf and she glared at the stack of books sitting next to her. Maybe Bella would help? Bella knew her alphabet better. A glance over at her older sister told Andy that Bella was not very likely to be of much help. The older girl was lying on her bed, one of the short chapter books open in front of her. Unless Bella started getting frustrated with the reading she was likely to be there for a while. No, she was going to have to do it herself.

Wrinkling her nose up, she glanced at the books again. This was possible; all she had to do was stick with it. The order at the end would be worth it.

Another book, her copy of _Tales of Beadle the Bard_. T, what came before T? Quickly she ran through the alphabet- Q, R, S, T- S was before T, and scanned the books on the shelves for one that started with an S, but there wasn’t one. Maybe at the end then? T was near the end of the alphabet. Quickly she ran through the alphabet again to check to see if the book went before something. U, V, W, X, Y, Z. Nope, none of her books started with those letters. It went at the end. 

But one book hardly did anything to diminish the stack of books to her side. There were so many. She wasn’t likely to finish before tea. It would sit here in this big mess while she was required to change into something pretty for tea. It might not even be done before supper, depending on how long they were required to sit at the tea table and considering the amount of time it would take. So frustrating. Andromeda wanted it orderly before that. Neat and clean. In control. 

Squeezing her eyes closed she wished with everything in her that the books would line themselves up, all pretty, in the order she wanted. It would be so much easier if they did that on their own, jumped up on the shelf all tidy like. Without her running through the alphabet for each one, without checking once and then again to make sure she really had the book in the right place. If she was going to wish, she might as well encompass everything, she wanted her doll clothes to be starched and pressed, like they were every morning. And the tea set should shine. She wanted to open her eyes and have her bookshelf be the picture of cleanliness, her own little bit of order in the world. 

If only if was that easy…

Opening her eyes, Andy expected to see the partially finished bookshelves and the stack of books to her right. Instead her shelves were neat and clean, the floor around her free of books. Her eyes opened wide, a hand reaching forward to touch the books that were all lined up. Her wishes had never come true before. Yet, there it was, she had wished it and the bookshelf had cleaned itself right up. Even the doll skirts looked crisp.

What on earth had happened! She had to tell Bella. Her sister would explain it.

“Bella! Look! Look at what I did!” Andromeda excitedly exclaimed. She hadn’t imagined it; everything was indeed all lined up, neat and orderly. Exactly how she liked it. The books even followed the ABC’s. It was perfect, much neater than her bookcase normally was because her two sisters also played with her belongings and they did not enjoy the same sort of neatness that she did. “BELLA!”

Her older sister jumped off her bed to come look at what her younger sister was pointing at. Indeed, Andromeda’s bookshelf was indeed stark in its order. The books were all on the bottom two shelves, in alphabetical order, held in place with bookends, a few plush animals seated on the shelf that wasn’t full. Dolls were on the shelf above that, their clothes looking pressed, all the heads facing the same direction, the porcelain skin without even one smudge. The shelf above that held Andy’s tea set, each of the girls had their own, Andromeda’s blue patterned china. Bellatrix knew that her younger two sisters had held a tea party earlier that day, but the tea cups were neatly lined up, each on top of it’s own saucer. It looked like a little table setting. It shone.

“When did a house elf come up?” Bella queried. She had been reading on her bed and hadn’t been paying attention to what was going on.

“No, Bella! I did it! I did it!” Andy was excited and tugged on her older sister’s sleeve to make a point. “I was putting my things away and it was taking so long to get them how I wanted and then suddenly they were exactly like this!”

Andy watched as her older sister thought about that, very seriously, and wondered what was going on in Bella’s mind. She didn’t have long to wait because soon Bella spoke. “You did magic. Let’s go tell mother.”

“What?”

“Magic, Andy. If you organized your shelves and you weren’t touching it then you did it by magic. It means you’ve proven yourself as a witch.”

That wasn’t something that needed to be explained in this family. Andromeda knew what being a witch was. Her mother was one and Bellatrix had blown up a snake roughly a year ago and they’d been served something for dinner that Andy had never had before, but it had been memorable.

“Will we have macaroni and cheese again?”

“It’s up to you silly. You did the magic so you get to pick.”

That was a wild idea to Andromeda, as Bellatrix led her out of the nursery to go hunting for their mother, leaving Narcissa to her play. She had never gotten to pick something that affected the whole household. She was allowed to pick out a new doll or hair ribbon and sometimes Bellatrix would even let her choose what game the three of them would play, but picking something for everyone? It sounded very grown up.

Not finding their mother in her small sitting room that was nearby, Bellatrix led her sister down the stairs. After searching one room Bella got impatient. “Mother!” she called. “Andromeda did magic!”

“Shhh, Bella,” Andromeda exclaimed. “We aren’t supposed to yell.”

“This is a special occasion,” Bella insisted, overriding her sister. “Mother!”

“But, Mother said…” Andromeda started, only to be interrupted with a stern look from her older sister. Bella was the oldest; maybe she should trust Bella. Maybe this _was_ a special enough matter to interrupt their mother. But she was wary. She didn’t feel her bookshelf was important enough. It had been amazing but she’d really only been looking for Bella’s praise, not getting either of their parents involved.

Druella was chatting with one of her old Hogwarts friends, a Mrs. Élodie Bessette, who had just moved back to England. The woman had been invited to tea, but since the two had not seen each other in several years, had shown up early to chat. Her daughters had been informed that they had to be on their best behavior during teatime, and in general, while her friend was in the house. There would be no running down the stairs, no yelling, no disturbing them. The house elves would dress them up in pretty dresses before tea, dresses that they were not to wrinkle or tousle. Basically, they would be paraded down the stairs, looking the picture of the perfect daughters they were expected to be. They would sit around the tea table answering questions with yes ma’am and no ma’am. Bellatrix found these interactions horrendous. Andromeda liked the attention from her mother. Narcissa enjoyed the special dresses, she seemed to like such affairs. 

Andy was worried that disturbing this plan would make her mother angry. There would be no attention, they would be sent back to the nursery and not allowed to attend tea. Or rather, Cissa would get to have tea and her and Bellatrix would be stuck in the nursery. Considering how Bella felt about acting prim and proper, Andromeda was sure this was her sister’s way of getting out of it. Her bookshelf couldn’t be that important. It probably wasn’t even magic. Bella had blown up a snake! That was impressive, that was magic. She’d cleaned a bookshelf. It didn’t compare. 

“Let’s go back upstairs Bella, we can tell mother later.”

But the two women chatting in the south parlor had heard Bella’s voice. It was hard not to hear Bellatrix when she wanted to be heard. Bella was certain her mother would want to hear about this, her mother had been excited when she did her first magic. She’d want to know about Andromeda’s.

“What is it Bellatrix?” asked Druella, more than slightly annoyed that her eldest daughter was not following the simple instructions she had set forth that morning. 

“It’s Andromeda,” Bellatrix explained, completely unperturbed by the look on Druella’s face. A look that had stopped Andy a few steps behind her, staring at the floor, a flush creeping up on her cheeks. Bella continued, “She did her first magic.”

That changed the look on their mother’s face, much to the surprise of Andy who snuck a look at her mother, expecting the annoyance to turn into anger. Instead her mother had moved closer to her and knelt down on the ground to be more eye level with her, looking excited. 

“Tell her,” hissed Bella.

“I cleaned my bookshelf,” Andy said quietly, still a little unsure. But her mother looked encouraging, so she decided to explain more. “I wanted it to be clean but it was hard. And I couldn’t get my books to line up. So I closed my eyes and wished. Then when I opened them, everything was in its place and perfect, exactly how I wanted.”

“That sounds lovely, dear. Would you like to show me? I’m sure Élodie won’t mind waiting a few minutes.”

Andy couldn’t believe her ears. Neither of her parents ever paid her that much attention and here her mother was willing to put aside time with her friend to look at _her_ bookshelf. Not only was she willing, she sounded like she _wanted_ to look. Surprised, Andromeda could only nod happily. 

A quick word to her friend, who had not only understood the occasion but also asked if she could see the bookshelf, and Druella took her middle daughters hand to go back upstairs, followed by Bellatrix and Mrs. Bessette. This turn of events was so unexpected. However, Andromeda wasn’t going to waste it, this was certainly something to relish and enjoy. This sort of attention never happened; mostly their parents left them to the house elves and their own devices.

Re-entering the nursery, where Narcissa had moved to the rocking horse completely unaware that her sisters had abandoned her earlier, Andromeda led her entourage over to the bookshelf. “I made it all neat.”

It was certainly pristine in comparison to the bookcases that were Narcissa and Bellatrix’s. Narcissa was really too young to desire to keep anything clean and all the girls relied on the house elves to keep their belongings in place for the most part.

“It’s very nice, dear,” Druella admired, looking over the alphabetized books. “We’ll have to celebrate tonight when your father comes home. You’ll get to choose dinner,” she reminded. 

“When do I get to choose dinner?” Narcissa asked, having come over to see what the fuss was about. Bella told her to shush but Druella explained that she would choose the meal when she did her first magic. Today Andy had done her first magic and therefore she got the treat of choosing what they ate.

“But right now it is almost tea time, so I will send an elf up to get you girls appropriately changed. Andromeda, when you have decided, tell one of the elves. We will see you all in a little bit downstairs.” With those words, Druella and her friend left the room, Élode exclaiming about how exciting it must be to have her second daughter showing her magic so young. Bright young girls they must all be. 

As the elves picked out the dresses and helped the girls change and make their hair presentable, Andromeda thought about what a strange turn this day had taken. She had started the day off like any other and suddenly she was getting a lot of special attention, her mother had even put aside her friend for her. That never happened.

“Told you so,” a smug Bellatrix announced. “What are you going to choose?”

“Remember that pizza thing Uncle Alphard told us about? I’m going to choose that. I want to try it.”

Bella nodded, indicating she thought it was a good choice. Andromeda was filled with pride, both at her older sisters support of her dinner choice and by how proud everyone seemed to be of her. It was good to be a witch.


	7. Second Star Seen Tonight

Walburga was pregnant again. Druella had only just received the news. 

_Sister Druella,_

Druella had never particularly liked that habit of calling your sister-in-law, your sister. It was a stupid practice. Her and Walburga were not close enough to be considered sisters. They got along, yes, but not at a sister level. Respectful but unnecessary. There was no need for the extra word.

_We have received the most happy news._

The happiest news would be that she, herself, was pregnant, with a son. Being as Walburga couldn’t be telling her that…

_I was experiencing some symptoms of morning sickness and I decided I must check and see._

Yes, obviously. 

_I am indeed pregnant, Druella. What a happy occasion!_

Surprisingly enough, Druella did not feel particularly happy. Maybe that had a lot to do with the next bit of the note.

_We heard about that new spell to figure out the gender of the baby and of course Orion wanted to know right off._

Blasted Orion.

_It’s a boy!_

Of course it was. Of course it fucking was. The rest of the note was useless, a due date in August, more exclamations of happiness and then Walburga’s signature. No, the important part was those three words-it’s a boy. How was it that Walburga managed to have two boys and she had produced only girls. They’d wanted a boy; they’d needed a boy. Why hadn’t they had a boy? 

Why did Walburga get all the boys? It was hardly fair. She already had a boy. She didn’t need another. It was Druella who needed a son. Cygnus wanted a son. It could do so much for their marriage, for her daughters. And there was Walburga getting all the sons. Secretly, Druella wished that Walburga would miscarry. It was a horrible thought, and she should not want it but she didn’t seem to be able to help it. 

A boy would distract Cygnus from all the problems with Bellatrix. Narcissa wasn’t enough, or she was simply too young. He liked his youngest; she fit in with his ideas on what a girl should be. Quiet and pretty. Narcissa was not a problem. It was Bellatrix who was the problem. The girl was…boisterous. If there were a son perhaps Cygnus would not notice everything that Bellatrix did wrong. She seemed to always be doing something wrong. Druella knew. The bruises meant for Bellatrix now speckled her own body. Why couldn’t Bellatrix have been a boy? Why couldn’t any one of her daughters have been a boy? Or now? Why couldn’t she have a boy now? The chances of that were too slim to even think about. But still!

It was easy to hate Walburga. Walburga and her two boys. Perfect little Sirius, the heir to the Black name and fortune and little whatever-his-name-was due to be born in August. The thought of the entire matter gave Druella a headache.

She was the only one in the Black family with such a headache. Everyone else was thrilled to hear the news that Walburga was expecting another boy. The more sons the better, only sons could keep the name going. It was important to have girls, in order to have more sons but leave the girls for other families to produce. The Black line was supposed to have sons. A notion Druella was constantly reminded of. Every family gathering, someone made mention. 

Wasn’t it wonderful that Walburga was having another son, especially since Druella Black had three _daughters?_

It was sickening. It was easy to pick on Druella, who had married into the Black clan. If she had a son no one would say anything, but being as she did not have any sons, she was free game. The galling knowledge that if the roles were reversed it wouldn’t change anything, (Walburga also being a Black by birth) made her headache over the entire matter get worse by the day and she found herself trying to come up with excuses to avoid family gatherings. She couldn’t help but sit at dinner parties and secretly glower over the bump in Walburga’s abdomen.

Walburga never noticed a thing. Perhaps Druella was good at concealing it, but more likely was the fact that Walburga was excited to be having another child. Her little Sirius was the light of her life, she was sure that he was a prodigy, the best child in the world, even at such a young age. Now he would have a little brother, she could hardly help but be excited.

In a way, the second son would be a security measure, a just in case son should something happen to Sirius. After all, there already was an heir to the Black name and fortune, but it never hurt to have more than one son. Two sons would mean twice as many grandchildren who held onto the Black name. Unlike the daughters Druella had produced whose children would take the surnames of their fathers. Walburga couldn’t help but be proud, and her gloating was not purposely aimed to make Druella feel bad. Or, most of it was not. The note had been too sickly sweet to be heartfelt and she did get perverse pleasure in asking Druella if she wanted to feel the baby kick.

Her and Orion had been racking their heads for names the little boy. Sirius already took the obvious ones. Had she known she would have another boy Sirius would have been given another middle name so that the second son could be named after his father. But, there were plenty of stars and constellations in the sky with grand names, both names that had never been used in the family and names that had long glorious history in the Blacks. 

Perhaps it was because the deaths were still recent, perhaps it was because the history behind the names were rich and would give the child clear role models. Maybe a combination of both. It did not seem very hard to agree on the name once it had been suggested. Orion’s Uncle Regulus had died a year and a half prior, and it seemed to be a good way to honor the man, naming the second son after him to keep the name going. It had been used several times already. Baby Regulus was going to have many men to look up to (all of them dead). Orion’s father was named Arcturus, after his own uncle, who had also recently passed away. It would also bode well for grandchildren, the baby being named after the two males on Orion’s side that had children. Even sons!

To Walburga it fit perfectly, Regulus Arcturus. 

Regulus, the star at the heart of the constellation Leo, the heart of the lion. She hoped her son would be both brave and sensitive, like all mothers want of their sons. Regulus, the little king, and there could not be a more royal wizarding family, with a history that went back as far as the heralded kingly star. The other Regulus’ in the family had been good strong men. She would be proud to have a son like that. One son the brightest star in the sky, the other with all those proud ancestors to live up to, a little king.

The reason she liked Arcturus might have changed had she remembered her Astrology lessons from all those years ago. She remembered Orion as the hunter and it made sense to her that Arcturus would mean the archer. What a way to tie her sons together for life. Later, Walburga would remember that it was really the guardian of the bear, but would always prefer to believe what she had originally thought. 

On August third, nineteen sixty one, about noon, Regulus Arcturus Black was brought into the world, surrounded by his family almost exactly like his brother had been. However, his birth was not quite the excitement that Sirius’ was. Sirius was the first boy of his generation (if you did not include the elder, now deceased, Regulus’ grandsons, but most people ignored them considering the rumors over an affair). Regulus was the second, it was still exciting to have another son but the feelings over having a true Black heir had been born did not prevail over his birth as it had his brother.

He was still fawned over, of course, the bulk of the family joyful that there was another son to carry on the line (and with no doubt that he was entirely a Black). Presents were brought over, the women cooed over his crib, the men toasted Orion with fifty-year-old scotch and smoked the best expensive cigars in Orion’s study. His female cousins and brother stared. 

Bellatrix felt very much the same she had at Sirius’ birth, but was older and smart enough to not say anything. She stared down into the crib, at the boy who looked a lot like the other one (as she referred to Sirius), and felt absolutely nothing towards him. He wasn’t special or interesting and like the other one had been when she first saw him, was asleep. Boring. After the shortest time she could get away with standing on the stepstool and looking at him, she escaped out of the room, and onto more interesting pursuits.

Andromeda thought he looked rather interesting, he was small and tiny, much like one of her dolls, but he moved. His little belly moved up and down, his thumb stuck in his mouth. If it wasn’t for that movement she easily could have stuck him on the shelf with her other dolls. Well, that and the fact he was all scrunchy looking. His face looked wrinkled to her and she was pretty sure it would be unacceptable to ask if the house elves would starch and iron out the wrinkles. Her dolls had porcelain skin, it was smooth and neat, much neater than the face of baby Regulus. He probably wouldn’t make a good doll. It wasn’t very long before she scuttled off to join her sister.

Narcissa looked at him for five minutes and wasn’t entirely sure what she was supposed to feel. He was a baby. He didn’t do very much and she couldn’t see exactly what all the fuss was about. He wasn’t pretty; she was pretty. She had very nice blonde hair that mummy had brushed for a very long time before tying part of it back with a light blue ribbon. A ribbon to match her light blue dress. She did not have to wear a pinafore today to prevent her nice dress from getting mussed. That meant it was a special occasion, although Cissy was not quite sure what the special occasion was. Her dress had nice sleeves with a little puff, and her skirt was full and had a nice ruffle and lace on the bottom. When she spun it spread out in a wide circle. Her shoes were shiny white patent leather and sticking out above them were little lace socks. She liked how she was dressed. Her outfit was far more interesting than the baby. When Druella noticed she wasn’t paying any attention she was quickly sent her after Andromeda.

Sirius didn’t understand what was happening. His mother held him up so he could see into the bassinet where the baby was sleeping but what was going on or why there were all the people around or why everyone was smiling and extra happy was beyond him. It was nice but it didn’t matter much to him. The presents people kept giving him he liked, most people had brought presents for the older brother. He liked seeing his cousins as well, they were interesting and more his size. Everyone else was tall and wouldn’t always pay him much attention other than a pat on the head, if they were involved with the other tall people. But his cousins were far more interesting and would talk to him, even if Bella gave him weird looks. 

Walburga soon grew tired of the toddler in her arms, he got bored of looking at his brother and started to struggle. She was hardly going to let a toddler who was not even two yet wander around unwatched but the house elves were quite busy with seeing to the guests. They really couldn’t be spared.

“Bellatrix!” shrieked Walburga. Her eldest niece would be perfect in the responsibility of keeping an eye on Sirius. She was bound to be watching her sisters anyway. What was adding one more to the mix? “Bellatrix!’ she shouted again, a rather devil may care attitude with a new baby around, but she had migrated to the hallway. She was opening her mouth to shout again when a familiar face poked her head from around the banister. “There you are, take Sirius off my hands. Watch him for a bit.”

Bellatrix’s face screwed up in an indignant look. That was _not_ her job. She wasn’t going to look after her cousin. She was _busy_. Every intention of refusing her aunt was written all over her face. There were things to do and watching someone who could not walk on his own was not her idea of a good time. 

Unluckily for her, Cygnus was walking up the stairs at that particular time. He had been down in Orion’s study, properly celebrating with the other men but he did need to get a look at the baby. Just as Bellatrix was forming the impertinent “no” that was on the edge of her lips, her father reached forward, grabbed the back of her neck and hoisted her to her feet. “Of course she will, Walburga. Bellatrix knows being the oldest means she is responsible for her sisters and cousins.”

Bellatrix knew better than to argue with her father, no matter how ridiculous the idea sounded to her. The man had seemed more and more irritated with her of late and did not care to be reminded of the back of his hand. Begrudgingly, she took the baby and headed back downstairs to inform her sisters there was a new plan, considerably less fun than the first.

“I expect you will want to see the baby Cygnus?” Walburga asked her brother, making to lead him into the nursery. “He already is so much like Sirius.”


	8. Turning of the Tide

It would not be borne.

She could not take it anymore. Would not take it anymore. It was impossible.

Every day.

Her daughter. No, _the girl._

The girl had figured out her father wouldn’t hit her again. The girl did not learn from Druella.

Perhaps it was the best way.

Every time the thought crossed her him she felt like a bad mother. A mother protected her children from harm. 

It wasn’t _needed._

Yet, she could not bear it.

Every day.

Bellatrix did this. Bellatrix did that. Druella tried to talk to her. Your father doesn’t like that, she’d say. 

The girl was testing her boundaries; she was free spirited.

She was a monster.

The bane of Druella’s existence. 

Why had she agreed to take the beatings? What lunacy had crept into her mind at the moment?

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so bad to be a bad mother. To _one_ of her daughters.

If she stopped protecting Bellatrix that did not mean she wasn’t protecting her other daughters. And Bellatrix was smart, she would learn fast and it would no longer be a problem. That was how it would work out. Right?

That was how she was justifying it. 

She still wasn’t sure if she could leave Bella on her own.

She felt wrong about it. A mother was supposed to do things for her children. But maybe this was for the better. Maybe this was being a good mother. Lots of people still hit their children. It wasn’t abnormal, nor particularly frowned upon, although it was not discussed in polite company. Cygnus’ family had done it and they had turned out fine. 

Everything would be fine.

Druella was up thinking about it. Again. Every night. Recently, every day, Bellatrix had done… something. It got worse by the day. Druella would approach her daughter; take her aside after seeing Cygnus’s scowl and nothing seemed to change. 

“Bella, you mustn’t do that.”

“But why?”

“It isn’t proper for young girls.”

“Why?”

“That’s the way it is.”

“But a boy could do it?”

“That’s not the point.”

“Why can’t I do what the boys can do?”

“That’s how it _is_ Bellatrix. You are a girl and you must behave like one.”

Each conversation she replayed in her head, all of them eerily similar. It would be easier if Bella merely didn’t understand, but the girl didn’t seem to _care _. Bellatrix was not learning to act like a girl. Instead, Bellatrix was questioning why she had to play at tea parties and house while the boys could run all over the yard. Druella could only pray her daughter would grow into the correct things. If not, Bellatrix would not fit into society. She would lose out on the best marriage connections.__

__Maybe it would be a good thing to step back and let Cygnus deal with her._ _

__Bellatrix’s future was at stake._ _

__There were standards and priorities. A girl could not run with the boys all her life. Mothers of sons would view her as a disgrace, not someone that their son would marry. A girl that didn’t marry was nothing. Bellatrix was getting to be of the age where her youthful vibrancy would not be waved away. That would be judged._ _

__Bellatrix had to learn, had to fit into society. Druella would not allow _her_ daughter to become a pariah. _ _

__If it took Cygnus to beat it into her… perhaps that was how it needed to be._ _

__Maybe it would be good to give Bellatrix another week. Tomorrow she’d be stricter with the girl, she’d watch her every move. When Bellatrix stepped over the line, Druella would be there to correct her. Before Cygnus noticed. Behavior could change in a week. All she had to do was be strict. She could be strict; her mother had been strict. No trouble at all._ _

__Halfway through the next day, Druella didn’t know what she had been thinking. Getting Bellatrix to behave was like wrangling a dragon. Worse. Fire breathing would be preferable to listening to the tantrums, easier to deal with too. Apparently thinking that she could control the girl had caused a shift in the universe._ _

__Thank Merlin Cygnus was not home yet. Thank Merlin he had been out today. Perhaps she could hide the evidence of Bella’s misdoing. Bella had been more of a hellcat than normal._ _

__The tantrum Bella had thrown when the house elf had explained that the green dress was dirty and could not be worn. The tantrum that had occurred when the house elf presented her with the green dress an hour later, clean. The green dress had been thrown down on the ground and Bella had stomped on it. Then, much to Druella’s dismay, Bella’s magic had decided to manifest and the dress had caught fire. That had caused another tantrum because the green dress was her favorite. The tantrum when the house elf said the girls could not have petit fours with tea. Narcissa had cried because Bella had promised and they were one of her favorites. Andromeda had even sniffled. Bellatrix had broken a vase. It wasn’t one of the older family heirlooms, but it had not gone back together quite right. It seemed lopsided. Druella had no idea how much attention Cygnus paid to the knick-knacks that laid about the house, but with her luck, that would be the only one he liked._ _

__And those had only been the tantrums._ _

__Bellatrix had also dragged her younger two sisters out for an adventure, all three coming back streaked in dirt. Bella’s pinafore had been torn, which led Druella to believe the girl had been up in a tree. Again. Something had been spilled in the bathroom when the girls were taken up to wash, and while Druella couldn’t prove it was Bella, she suspected. She had yelled at both her sisters and at any house elf that had come near her._ _

__Druella had grabbed a hold of her after each incident, to talk to the girl, to explain, to scold. But her attempt at being strict was not working. Bella had screamed at her, pouted, rolled her eyes and then continued to do exactly as she pleased._ _

__Druella had a headache._ _

__Why did she have the girl that wouldn’t behave?_ _

__That question had been asked another half dozen times before Cygnus returned and the five sat down to the evening meal. The girls were expected to be silent while they ate, to only speak when spoken to. Cygnus did not believe in hearing what his daughters had been up to, childish activities never made the list for interesting dinner conversation. Cygnus preferred to discuss his political views and what he and his colleagues were doing. Druella was expected to agree demurely. When the girls got older, they would follow their mother’s lead but right now, he preferred them silent._ _

__Narcissa was behaving herself, poking at her food to investigate it. She hadn’t eaten much of the entrée. Neither had Andromeda, both looking rather skeptical of the Roquefort flan. Bellatrix had turned up her nose, a definite wrinkle etching itself in her forehead as she pushed it away, after one bite. Her sisters ended up imitating her action, although without the face. As soon as their parents finished their portions, the main course was brought out, sea fricassee. Sea scallops, salmon and sole, carrots and leaks in a white wine cream sauce. Andromeda was the first of the girls to take a bite and when she did not immediately fall over dead, Narcissa ventured a bite. But Bellatrix stared down at the dish with narrowed eyes. Where was the actual food? She’d had an eventful day and she was hungry. This was….this was…whatever it was it was weird looking. There were slivers of orange things, and lumps of white things._ _

__“I’m not eating that!” she declared loudly, crossing her arms in front of her chest. “It’s gross.”_ _

__At her declaration, her sisters stopped eating. After all, if Bella was not eating it because it was gross, they shouldn’t eat it either. She was their big sister. She knew all. They both pushed their plates away too._ _

__“You will eat that or you will eat nothing,” Cygnus responded to his oldest._ _

__“I’m hungry!” Bella complained, eyes narrowing yet again._ _

__“You should eat your dinner Bella,” Druella replied. “It’s good.”_ _

__“No it isn’t!” yelled the annoyed and angered seven year old. “I hate it! I hate it! I hate it!”_ _

__“Bellatrix!” hissed Druella._ _

__“Hate it,” echoed a quieter Narcissa, quickly silenced by a quick kick from Andromeda to the blonde’s chair, because something much more interesting was occurring._ _

__“I HATE IT!” Bella stood up with that outburst. Then, quicker than Druella could imagine her daughter moving, the girl had climbed up on her chair, plate in hand and threw it back down towards the table._ _

__Druella thought time must have slowed down, for the fall of the plate seemed to take a lifetime. But it wasn’t enough time to pull a wand and halt it. The china shattered the instant it hit the table, seafood and vegetables flying in all directions._ _

__“I WANT REAL FOOD!” came the end of Bellatrix’s screamed complaint. The girl’s eyebrows were narrowed, an intense glare on her face._ _

__Bits of carrot that had flown off the flying plate had stuck themselves to Narcissa’s face and hair, causing the youngest to screw up her face. The pre-crying face. Andromeda, seeing that, attempted to kick her sister’s chair again, but missed, hitting the girl square in the shin. At that, Narcissa let out a wail. Andromeda sank down in her chair, eyes even with the table. Bellatrix continued to yell and scream. A house elf cowered in the corner._ _

__Druella could only stare at the chaos around her. One daughter crying across the table, with bits of food clinging to her. Another who had practically disappeared under the table. All Druella could see of Andromeda was the brown hair on the top of the middle daughter’s head. Then, the third daughter, Bellatrix, standing on her chair, hands on her hips, ranting about how they never ate real food, it was all stupid stuff that looked disgusting and tasted just as bad._ _

__“THAT IS ENOUGH,” bellowed Cygnus, his voice effectively cutting through the noise. Bellatrix’s rant trailed off as she noticed her father standing at the head of the table, fists resting on the heavy wood. Narcissa took one last gulping breath, but she too was silent. Andromeda slid further under the table as Druella turned to face her husband._ _

__“That is enough,” the head of the family repeated. “Girls, upstairs. Druella, my study.”_ _

__Andromeda was the first to slid out of her chair and scurry out of the room, dragging her younger sister behind her. Bella still stood on her chair, defiant, now glaring at her father. Druella stared at the girl._ _

__“Upstairs Bellatrix.” There was a warning tone in Cygnus’ voice, “Druella, now.”_ _

__Druella took a step towards the door, knowing what was going to await her. The blame. The blows._ _

__No._ _

__No, she was not going to take it for this fiasco. This was Bellatrix’s fault, the screaming, the throwing, disturbing the meal. Just like everything else had been that dratted girl’s fault. Everything today, and everything in the past year or so. Andromeda and Narcissa didn’t act up, Bellatrix did. Every blow that Druella got was from that girl, the one standing on the chair._ _

__Druella was done._ _

__“I believe Bellatrix needs to learn her own lesson.”_ _

__The minute those words came out of her mouth Cygnus moved, grabbed Bellatrix by the arm and yanked her towards the door. The girl practically fell off the chair, her other arm smacking against the table. The first blow of her punishment landed by a table._ _

__Bellatrix was confused; this was not supposed to happen. Her eyes widened towards her mother, asking for explanation._ _

__Druella turned her back._ _


	9. Snippets of Childhood

Andromeda didn’t like tea parties as much as Narcissa did. No one liked tea parties as much as her younger sister did. Cissy was perfectly happy to have a tea party every day of the week. There really was no way to say no to the little blonde, especially if Bellatrix had already agreed to it. If Bella was sitting down to some tea party, they were all sitting down to the tea party. Bella liked tea parties the least, although maybe that was because the tea parties that the three girls held were not as impressive as the tea parties mother now allowed Bellatrix attend. Andy wondered what those tea parties were like, Bella being the only one allowed out of the three of them. 

“You’ll find out next year Andy,” was what her older sister would tell her. “It’s not exciting. It’s just a tea party.”

But it was something she wasn’t allowed to do. Her and Narcissa weren’t allowed even to creep down the stairs to a place where they could get a glimpse of the goings on through the railing. It was very frustrating to be forbid to do something. Bella seemed to understand, because after each of those tea parties she made sure that the three of them had a tea party and she would always proclaim it grander than the party she had attended. 

Bella had been dragged off to one of those parties yesterday so Andy knew that today when Cissy had asked for a tea party there would be no getting out of it. When Druella had appeared yesterday with a pink and white frilly dress, Narcissa had immediately wanted it. Bella had been less enthused, a scowl darkening her features when Druella handed it to her and was told to get dressed. Bella didn’t like baby colors like pink and she didn’t like frills. Ruffles and bows were not her thing. Her displeasure had been evident when she was forced into the dress, a large matching pink bow secured in her hair. Andy had not liked the atmosphere in the nursery yesterday. Bella had looked as if she was about to kill someone and Cissy sat on the rocking horse looking supremely jealous. It had been a relief when Druella and Bella had left and Narcissa had forgotten about the matter and gone on with her play.

Cissy had talked to Bellatrix earlier and had come away from the conversation supremely happy so a tea party was on the menu. Andy didn’t really feel like having a tea party today. Her book was very interesting and she wanted to find out what happened, if the girl would find the prince or not, if the girl would ever see her father and sisters again, or if she’d ever give in to the beast’s question of marriage. 

“Bella?” Cissy asked, “Are you done yet?”

“Why don’t you put your dress on and find something for me and Andy to wear and by that time I will be.”

The blonde girl took off towards the closet, a happy skip in her step. Andy sank further into her chair. She might as well put the book down now, it would be better to stop now than to be forced out in a little bit while she was in the middle of a paragraph. Or worse, the middle of a sentence. 

Choosing to carefully place a seafoam green ribbon to mark her page, Andromeda set the book with the soft black leather cover on the small wooden table that sat beside her bed. That task completed, she went off to find out what Cissy was up too. The younger girl was standing in the middle of their expansive shared closet, holding out one of her dresses and clearly agonizing over something.

“What’s wrong Cissy?”

“I don’t know what one to wear!” her sister bemoaned. “Nothing is as beautiful as the dress Bella got.” A crease had formed on the girl’s forehead and the corners of her mouth were dangerously down turned. Andy knew that in a few minutes her sister was bound to start crying if a solution wasn’t found.

“You have lots of pretty dresses.”

“I need a special dress. This is a special fancy tea party!”

“What’s the matter?” Bella had heard the commotion and had appeared in the doorway.

“None of my dresses are pretty enough!” Narcissa wailed. “I want a dress like your dress!”

Andy thought she saw Bella roll her eyes, but she might have been mistaken.

“You could wear it. It would be long because I’m taller, but if you want to, I don’t care.”

Narcissa’s happy smile lit the entire room.

* * *

The entire Black family was gathered for Bella’s ninth birthday, along with many of the other pureblood families. Birthdays were simply another excuse to throw large parties and show off one’s wealth. Her closest girlfriends, Isolde and Bernadette were there, and the other girls her age, some of which Bella did not like very much. All the young boys were here too, her favorite playmates-Lucius, Evan and Rodolphus looking very formal in the dress robes they had been required to wear. Everyone was dressed formally in either dress robes or fancy dresses. Most of the dresses the young girls were wearing were in nice feminine pastel colors, with lace and ruffles. Bellatrix’s dress had only one ruffled flounce, along the bottom, and only a little bit a lace on the collar. After a fight with her mother, she had also gotten the dress color she wanted. None of that silly pastel stuff, her dress was a lovely emerald green-her favorite color. Druella had given in once the girl had complained that she should stand out because it was her birthday. Bella felt very pleased with herself as she greeted her guests alongside her mother and father

The boys were a little surprised to see her in such a fancy dress, as it was much nicer than her play clothes and they were more used to those, interacted with her more in those clothes than in her party outfits. Her dresses designed for play were made of cotton since even the cleanest of little girls could not be trusted with play clothes of finer materials. Bella could not be described as the cleanest of little girls either, happily throwing herself into whatever games the boys were playing, no matter how messy. Her party dress was green satin and shiny. It almost rivaled the shine from her black patent leather Mary Janes on her feet. No play pinafore was worn over the dress, which had a sash that tied in a bow on her back, and little puffed sleeves. A black velvet ribbon tied her hair out of her face a little, her mother had wanted a bow, Bella had refused time and time again, the ribbon refusing to tie itself into the loops necessary, so instead the black ribbon hung loose, blending into her dark hair. Little white lace topped socks stood out over the top of her shoes. 

“You look like a girl,” Evan Rosier said as he stood in front of her in the receiving line. 

Bella responded in a matter of fact manner. “I _am_ a girl, stupid.”

“But you _look_ like one today.”

Bella rolled her eyes as he headed towards the room designated for the children. Once she had greeted all her guests she was going to teach him a lesson. Evan Rosier could be so stupid! 

“He’s right you know.” Lucius Malfoy had interrupted her thoughts.

Bella scowled at him, receiving a stern look from her mother.

“Not so prissy as the other girls. I can still tell it’s you.” His smug words earned him another scowl (although she was secretly pleased that she did not look like other girls), facing away from her mother so as not to receive the ‘Bellatrix, Behave!’ look. Lucius only shrugged and went to join Evan. 

Dumb boys! This was her birthday! They should all keep their big mouths shut! 

Luckily the next couple of people in line were Isolde and Bernadette. Seeing them cheered her up, especially because they agreed with her about the stupidity of boys. Girls were clearly superior. All one had to do was look at the three of them to know. The three of them were clearly worth more than stupid prats like Evan Rosier or Lucius Malfoy. The encounter was over much too fast, as mothers grabbed hold of their daughter’s arms to move them down the hall and into the designated room, but Bella knew that later the three of them would conspire so she wasn’t too disappointed. Plus there were more people to greet and everyone was saying such nice things to her.

“I can see your panties.”

That certainly got her attention.

“They’re ruffled.” Rodolphus Lestrange smirked at her. “You can see them in your shoes.” 

Quickly, she glanced down at her shoes. “I don’t see anything. You’re a liar!”

“I’m still right. Ruffled aren’t they?”

Bellatrix turned her nose up, putting on her very best ‘I think you are quite beneath me’ look, a withering stare she had been practicing on her sisters and the house elves. “I am not going to dignify that with an answer.”

He chuckled at her response, and then leaned in as if to give her a hug. Bella raised her foot to stomp on one of his since hugs were not on the menu for receiving lines so it couldn’t be what he actually wanted. “I’ll flip your skirt up later and we’ll know for sure if I’m a liar.”

Rodolphus earned himself a foot stomping, one of the shiny shoes he claimed he could see her undergarments reflected on coming down hard on his instep. And after a quick look to make sure her parents weren’t paying attention, Bella stuck her tongue out at him for good measure.

* * *

Sirius hated dress robes. They were itchy and uncomfortable and they hindered his running around. That was probably the point, he thought. His mother would want him to sit on the couch next to Regulus like a good little boy and not bother anyone. There weren’t many children his age at this party that he could see; mostly there were people of his oldest cousin’s age. There were a few younger siblings but even they were closer to Andy and Cissy’s ages than his own. 

Reggie was a good boy. Reggie was sitting on their mother’s lap on the couch. Sirius had quickly tired of sitting on the couch, but he was almost three and Reggie had only just turned a year old a few months ago. He wanted to be in the room with all the other children. Something was bound to be going on there if they got a whole room to themselves. Something more exciting than what was going on in here. There weren’t any other children in here, except for Reggie and he was so boring he didn’t count. He’d probably fall asleep in a moment.

Sirius slid off the couch and busied himself by poking under the couch to see what interesting things were under there. So far he hadn’t found much of anything. Not too surprising considering house elves cleaned every nook and cranny of Black Manor from top to bottom. There was not much in the way of things for a toddler to occupy himself. Wriggling so that he was completely underneath the sofa, Sirius realized he might be able to escape to another room; the door on the wall behind the sofa had been left open. Excellent. He only needed to be sneaky. Provided his mother assumed he was playing under the couch he would make a clean getaway. A careful eye on her shoes as he squirmed his way out the back left him with the knowledge that she hadn’t caught on to his plans. Escape was imminent. 

He had barely gotten outside the door when a woman he didn’t recognize grasped his arm, “Where are you going Sirius? I’m sure your mother wouldn’t want you wandering about.” Freedom had been cut short, the woman leading him back to the room he had left, and handing him back over to his mother who picked him up and set him on the sofa next to Reggie.

Sirius was not surprised to see his brother had fallen asleep against the embroidered pillows. To make matters worse his robes were itching again. Annoyed with the fabric, Sirius lifted the robes off his legs, giving the women on the couch across from his mother a wonderful view of his underpants. 

“Sirius Black!” scolded his mother, “Lower your robes this instant.”

She was treated to a mischievous smile before he lifted the robes up over his head.

* * *

Narcissa loved when her namesake flowers bloomed in the early months of the year. They sometimes started blooming around Andromeda’s birthday could go well into her own birthday month. Of course, it wasn’t the same type of Narcissus that bloomed for half the year, and the paper whites that she was named after, according to Bella, were usually gone by the time her birthday rolled around. It had been a rarity that they had stuck around so long the year she was born.

“Must have been extra cold that year,” Bella would tease. “Maybe you are made of ice. We should try melting you.”

Andy would roll her eyes when Bella said things like this and they’d all laugh. It was clear Bella was teasing. 

The beginning of the season, when she first saw the little blossoms appearing in the garden meant that winter was here. Ice skating on the nearby lake, playing in the snow, Christmas and all the happy things that came with that holiday. Recently, ice skating on the stream and little connecting ponds that was new to the ownership. One of the families that owned some of the adjacent land had needed to sell it and the three girls had been thrilled to find that there were these little ponds, not very deep so they froze over fast, and that they were all connected by little streams. It was their personal mystical frozen world.

The paper whites had started blooming a month ago; Cissy had seen the first blossom on Andy’s birthday. Their mystical frozen world was ready, Bella had tested it the other day, having the house elves jump on it to make sure the three girls wouldn’t fall through the ice. It was solid. There had been no skating that day, instructions had to be given to the house elves. The three girls had busied themselves in the nursery planning how their skating rink would look this year. Last year it had been decorated for them, a surprise from their mother when she realized what the addition to their property included. But this year they got to decide. Lanterns were a must because none of them wanted to have to stop the fun when it started to get dark. Besides winter days were often gloomy and this would make the space twinkle. Bella wanted silver paper chains; the house elves could make it so they would last the whole skating season. Andromeda wanted popcorn and cranberry garlands. It was planned out on paper with Andromeda drawing in the picture everything they wanted. 

It hadn’t taken long before a plan had been concocted and it appeared finished, at least Bella and Andy seemed to think so. They had multiple types of garlands to be strung from the trees. Lanterns and balls that shimmered would hang from the trees. On the ground there would be candles and pinecones and evergreen boughs. Even scrawled out in miniature in black and white on parchment it looked magical. They own perfect winter playground. 

“It’s missing something,” Cissy whined to her older sisters.

“What?” they asked. It appeared amazing and ideal already. 

“I don’t know…” she trailed off as she looked around the room trying to figure out what it was. That’s when she spotted it- the vase of paper whites sitting on one of the tables. “Paper whites!” she exclaimed. “It needs paper whites.”

Bella thought for a second, looking at the flowers and back down at their drawing. After a moment deep in thought she instructed to Andromeda to add them in a few places, both on the ground and attached to some of the trees in vase like triangle holders. 

Today they got to see their handiwork. The design had been turned over to the house elves the minute it was declared absolutely final and the elves had worked for two days sweeping and making decorations and laying them out to the girl’s specifications.

It looked like something out of a fairytale storybook. Candles and lanterns lit the ice pathways while the garlands twined above their heads, giving the entire place a fantastical feel, as if they were on some ice ballroom floor. The shimmering balls caught the light and reflected it onto the ice, little pinpricks of rainbows and glimmer all over their magical kingdom. The candles and greenery on the ground broke up the monotony of snow white that was everywhere. But the crowning touch was indeed the paper whites. Not only were they charming popping out of the snow or seeming to grow out of the trees themselves, cleverly tended by the house elves, but they perfumed the air of the entire clearing, the faint sweet scent lingering in their nostrils as they explored all the nooks and crannies, investigating how everything fit together this year.

When the exploring had been exhausted, the three of them collapsed in one of the snow banks. They weren’t particularly tired; not yet, they had plans for today, games to play. They were merely taking a moment to admire their work and enjoy a warm beverage and snack provided by an elf.

“It’s perfect,” Cissy declared, sipping her mug. “No one has anything better. Everyone is going to want to see.”

“Come on,” said Bella, handing her unfinished drink to the elf. “I’ll race you both to the other side.”

Three drinks were forgotten as skates were tightened, and hats secured, and then the three girls were off, hair flying behind them as they skated furiously for the end of their paradise, determined to get there first.


	10. Small Umbrella in the Rain

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Physical Abuse of a Child

* * *

“Bellatrix! Andromeda! Narcissa!” Cygnus’s voice boomed from downstairs. Despite being at least two stories below them, neither floors nor walls muffled his displeasure. The three girls looked at each other for a split second, the exchanged looks said they had a good idea of what he was yelling about. Narcissa was worried, as her father’s favorite he’d never really been mad at her, but her name was included. Andromeda wasn’t sure what to do either. She tried to avoid their father as much as she possibly could since he wasn’t going to like her like he liked Cissy. The option was the relationship he had with Bella, and he always seemed mad at her older sister. Far better to be ignored.

Bellatrix took action, figuring her father would be up here in no time and if he was mad enough to be bellowing, he was mad enough to hit. That was usually the case. Therefore, she had to get her sisters out of the way. There wasn’t much in the way of hiding in the nursery, the closet or behind beds, but it would have to do. 

“Cissy,” Bellatrix ordered calmly, “Go into the closet and sit in a corner. Don’t say anything. Don’t come out. You aren’t here. Do you understand?”

“Is this a game?” Narcissa asked.

“Yes, Cissy. Don’t come out of the closet unless I say so, or you’ll lose.”

Despite, her father was still yelling her name as he pounded up the stairs, Narcissa obeyed without more questioning. Bellatrix was the leader of the trio, and if Bella said that was what she should do, she would. Bellatrix hoped that her sister would stay no matter what happened.

“You too Andy.”

Andromeda shook her head in defiance of Bella’s order.

“I’m not asking you. Go hide.”

“No, we were together.” She could tell her father was mad and it didn’t make sense to her to let her older sister deal with him all by herself when they had all been together. Cissy wouldn’t be much help, still viewed as the baby, but she was a year older than Narcissa, she could be helpful. “I’m staying.”

“Andromeda,” Bella hissed, eyes narrowing angrily at her sister. She was ordering her to hide for her own protection. Bellatrix was sure she could distract their father and he’d forget all about her sisters. That would be a more difficult task if Andy stuck around. Her sister didn’t know to what extent Cygnus got mad, could theoretically mess up anything Bella tried to prevent punishment for the lot of them. However, she didn’t have a chance to try to convince Andromeda because Cygnus stormed through the door. 

Their father surveyed the room, “Where’s Narcissa?” he demanded.

“Outside,” replied Bellatrix confidently.

“It’s raining,” Cygnus stated, refuting Bella’s proclamation.

“I told her there was a rainbow. She went out with the house elf to see it.”

Andromeda was surprised at how coolly Bella lied to their father. Her older sister did not blink, or look away, stood there calmly and told a direct lie. What’s more, Cygnus seemed to accept her statement. He considered it for a moment and then accepted her words at face value! It made Andromeda uncomfortable. Father could be scary sometimes and he would not like it if Bellatrix were lying to him. It would not be good if she were caught. 

“You girls were in the south parlor this afternoon?”

It sounded like a question to Andromeda but Bellatrix didn’t answer. She stood there, drawn up to her full height, head high, mouth tight in a strange line as she watched their father intently, but she wasn’t talking. So Andromeda responded for the both of them, “Yes. We were playing there earlier.”

Cygnus turned towards the door and Andromeda thought he was going to leave. Was that all he wanted to know? That wasn’t so bad. She looked over to Bellatrix to give her sister a reassuring smile only to be met with a death glare. A look that clearly stated, _keep your mouth shut Andromeda._ Andy didn’t understand. It had only been a question, she had only answered a question!

“What happened to the room?”

Again, Bellatrix didn’t answer and Andy wasn’t sure if she should. Her sister had definitely told her to keep her mouth shut, words or no words. It felt as if father and Bella were playing some sort of game but she had not been told the rules.

Cygnus picked up on the younger girls uncertainty as she looked between her sister and him and directed the question at her, “Andromeda, what happened to the room?”

She looked at him wide eyed for a second, his face a mask of anger. They had only been playing! she thought. It had been an accident! 

Cygnus narrowed down the question. “Andromeda, did you knock over the bookcase? Or did one of your sisters? Who did it?”

“…I…” stammered Andy, unsure of what to say.

“I did it,” Bellatrix stepped in front of her sister, roughly pushing Andromeda behind her, hard. “Narcissa has been out looking for rainbows for hours and Andromeda was reading in the corner. _I did it._ ”

That wasn’t what happened. 

“Is that true?” Cygnus asked Bellatrix, who nodded, matching his stare. “Is that what happened, Andromeda?”

They had been flying in the house. They weren’t supposed to, but it was wet and raining and they had gotten bored. No one was around downstairs, mother out socializing and Andy didn’t know where father had been. They had been playing in the parlor when Bellatrix had suggested flying, and it hadn’t taken much convincing to get her sister’s to agree. They were all tired of being cooped up, antsy. The parlor hadn’t been the only place where they had been flying; they flew over much of downstairs. The biggest ballroom had probably been the most fun because it had the most room but the parlor was good for practicing turns because it was just big enough, plus there were no nosy relatives in paintings to scold them. They had been flying around the room and handing things off to one another as they passed when the accident had occurred. Narcissa had missed the pass to Bellatrix and had made the turn too wide. In order to avoid hitting her younger sister Andromeda had swerved wildly and flown straight into the bookcase. Narcissa had run into the opposite wall, sending a still life painting crashing to the floor. Bella had landed and gone to check on Narcissa when she had yelled to Andromeda to move. Andy had already heard the creaking of wood above her and rolled to the side just as the bookcase came crashing down, contents flying, before landing with a resounding crack on one of the wing backed settees in the room. The three girls had stared at each other for a moment before Bella had told them all to pick up their brooms and they had left the mess for a house elf to deal with. None of them could fix the broken knick-knacks or the splintered shelves, or even hang the painting back up-as if they’d ever even consider such a thing. A house elf was sent to work on it, but apparently father had found out. But it wasn’t Bella’s fault. If anything it had been Andy’s fault, she was the one who had run into the bookcase. 

“…I…” Andy started again but Bellatrix interrupted her.

“She couldn’t even see what I did. She was reading. I did it. My fault.”

“Did you knock the picture down too?”

“Yes.”

“You destroyed an entire room by yourself?”

“Yes.”

Andy couldn’t figure out why Bellatrix was lying. If Cygnus had figured out they were lies he didn’t seem to indicate it, maybe father did indeed believe her sister’s words. But Bella was playing with fire. Such blatant lies, at least to her ears. And so peculiar. If Bella didn’t do something, Bella didn’t want credit for it. When Narcissa had borrowed one of Andy’s dolls and accidentally ruined it by leaving it outside, Bellatrix had thrown a fit when Andy thought it had been her. Yet, Bella was currently lying about something much bigger than a ruined doll. Father was sure to punish her and she couldn’t let her big sister take the fall for something that was her fault. 

“It wasn’t just Bella,” she murmured, quietly, almost too soft to be heard. She knew that Bellatrix had told her to be quiet, but it hurt thinking Bella was going to take the blame when she was standing right there.

“What?” Cygnus demanded. “Speak up.”

“Bella wasn’t…” Andy started, trying to explain her part in it, but Bellatrix interrupted, taking a step towards their father. 

“ _It. Was. Me._ ” Bella emphasized each word loudly and clearly, overruling anything Andy wanted to say. Vetoing Andromeda’s voice and any thoughts about contradicting her. Bellatrix was determined to take the blame; it wasn’t worth arguing with her. People who argued with Bella lost.

Cygnus had picked up on the girl’s disagreement. Where there had been no reason for him to not believe Bellatrix before, in fact he’d rather believe it had been her, it was rather delicious to catch her in a lie. Something extra to punish her for, if she was so determined to claim responsibility she could, but she’d get extra punishment for trying to lie. 

“Are you lying to me Bellatrix? It seems your sister wants to disagree. Or is she lying?”

Bella was stuck. She didn’t want to be caught in a lie but if she said she was telling the truth, then it meant Andy was lying and that could get her sister punished. Why hadn’t Andromeda followed her directions earlier? This was why she had wanted Andy safe and out of the way. Bella chose to say nothing.

“Silent? Admission of your lies?”

It seemed safest to continue to stay silent. Why he hadn’t started hitting her she didn’t know, but it was bound to start soon. If Andy wasn’t there she might have tried arguing with him, because she didn’t want to be disciplined, although it never seemed as if she could get out of punishment. It would still be better for their father to think she was lying if it would keep Andromeda safe. He might get so involved with punishing her, he’d forget all about her younger sister. It felt like a good bet and her sister’s safety came first.

Andromeda finally followed Bella’s lead, holding her tongue. She didn’t quite understand what was going on, the interrogation hadn’t lead to anything, and she felt as if she had not been helpful. That was why she hadn’t followed Narcissa into the closet, it had felt wrong to leave Bella out by herself to talk to their father. But now she wasn’t so sure, Cygnus looked furious, his brows knitted together as he stared at his oldest daughter.

“You thought you could lie to me.” Cygnus took a step towards his oldest daughter. “Thought you could get away with it.”

Bellatrix stood like a little steel rod stuck to the ground. Her shoulders squared in anticipation for what she knew was soon to come. While her head was held high, her eyes were fixed on the floor near Cygnus’ booted feet, watching his progression towards her, until he was mere inches away.

“I will not tolerate lying.” That was when it came, the backhand across her face, and as her head was whipped to the left she lost her balance, forced to take a step back. A small gasp came from somewhere behind her, apparently Andromeda hadn’t been expecting that. 

“Bellatrix, will you ever learn respect? Your place in the world?” 

They were rhetorical questions, ones she wasn’t going to bother answering, even if he had given her a chance. His hand had closed tight on her upper arm and he yanked hard. Bellatrix pitched forward, not able to catch herself with both hands. The sound of her knees hitting the wooden floor had Andromeda backing up away from their father. Andy had never seen this side of him. She’d seen him angry and yelling but this was something else entirely. This man hitting her sister was more frightening than she had thought and she wished she had gone into the closet with Narcissa. She didn’t want to watch. The bed was nearby, she could slip behind it, hide pressed up against the wall.

Cygnus got a strange pleasure about teaching his daughter a lesson. The feeling of power and control was always a thrilling one. He didn’t like Bellatrix much, there were far too many masculine qualities about her, reminders of the son she should have been. Had she been a son, these traits would have been admirable - the strength, the way she talked back and spoke her mind. Not quiet or soft; she demanded attention. He had wanted a boy and instead he had gotten the ultimate insult, this girl who acted like a boy. It soothed his shame when he could whip her around by the arm, letting go in order to watch her slam into the wall. He didn’t like to mark her face, too many social events for that, her injuries would then have to be immediately healed and there would be no learning from her. 

There were plenty of other options such as dragging by the hair, things that caused her to squint up her eyes, clearly suffering. It was annoying how silent she was, as if she was trying to be stoic. He felt it was a personal accomplishment when he could get her to cry out in pain, it made him feel as if he was succeeding. It never seemed to be the same thing, a different action each time that caused her to break. Usually at that point he’d be done, consider her “educated” for that day. 

Today it seemed harder. 

Bellatrix kept biting at her bottom lip in order to prevent the noise. She was trying to be strong for her sisters, Cissy needed to stay in the closet and while she couldn’t see Andromeda, she was still in the room. It was her job as the oldest to keep attention on herself to prevent them from harm.

Cygnus didn’t know this and her silence only served to annoy him more. He had flung her into a wall, dragged her across the room by her hair, all the while yelling at her and nothing. No sound. He’d smacked her, punched her, kicked her and still nothing. Did she think she was strong? Girls weren’t strong, they were weak- a Cygnus was intent on teaching. If it took him all day, he would. If a few of her bones got broken, that was not important. He was teaching his daughter her place in the world.

He pulled out his wand, staring down at the girl on the floor. Bruises were starting to form on her knees from her fall, her arms wrapped over her head, gingerly rubbing tender scalp injured when he had dragged her earlier. He liked to see that, she looked more like his idea of feminine, curled on the floor. But that sound, the fact that she had not cried out irked him, did not give him the victorious feeling he was looking for. His work wasn’t done yet.

A few waves of the thin piece of wood caused red welts to stand out on the back of Bellatrix’s legs, as if she had been beaten with a switch. It was new and unexpected to the girl and Cygnus got noise, a strangled cry escaping her before she bit down on her hand, thinking of Cissy.

It was a sound Andromeda had never heard Bellatrix make. Bella never made sounds that sounded like she was in pain. It sounded like a choked cat, the half gasp, half cry and Andy clapped her hands over her ears, afraid of more. Cygnus was placated; his prize achieved. Another casting of the spell for good measure, on her arms this time, left him in good spirits and he abandoned the room, stowing his wand in his jacket pocket, slamming the door behind him. The resounding vibration made Bellatrix shudder.

Bellatrix was practically gnawing on her fingers, her arms and legs stinging as if she had rolled in nettles, various body parts aching with the dull pain of forming bruises. 

Scared, Andromeda peeked out from around the bed. Her older sister lay in a little pile on the floor but her father was gone. “Bella?” she called, unsure of what she should do now. 

The older girl repeated the name of her sisters in her head. Andy. Cissy. Cissy. Andy. Her father was done for now, but if it was found out how much she lied, his temper would flare again. She was having trouble concentrating, her head throbbing from where he had practically pulled her hair out of her head. Repeating her sister’s names gave her focus, something to direct her attention instead of letting her mind wander to concentrate on the hurt. 

Pushing herself up to her knees Bella directed Andy to call a house elf. One of the creatures could take Narcissa outside from this room without worrying about anyone seeing. Cissy could stay out long enough to get suitably wet and then she could return inside. That was the goal now, preventing her father from discovering the lies in order to protect Cissy. Her vision swam for a moment as she stood up but Bella squared her shoulders and shook her head before heading off to the closet. 

“Cissy? It’s time to come out. You played very well.”

The blonde girl crawled out from underneath a coat, blue eye big. “Father was very mad. I didn’t mean to knock the painting down.”

“I know. It wasn’t your fault. It was my fault,” Bellatrix reassured the girl. “But there’s still a little more to our game. The house elf is going to take you outside and you are going to see if you can spot any rainbows.”

Cissy nodded so Bella turned her attention to the house elf in order to instruct it, wincing a bit as the movement caused pain to flare up in her side where her father had kicked her. “Take Narcissa outside. Do not speak to anyone about it. If you tell anyone I made you take her outside, you will iron your ears every day for a year. When her hair is completely wet you both can come back. If anyone asks, you’ve been outside for hours searching for rainbows.”

The house elf nodded solemnly, took a hold of the blonde’s arm and the two disappeared.

With Narcissa taken care of, all Bellatrix wanted to do was curl up somewhere. Her side hurt, her head hurt, her arms and legs stung, didn’t want to focus on the pain. Vaguely, she heard her sister call her name again. Bella didn’t say anything, the bed seemed too far away so curling up on the rug at her feet seemed liked a good idea. Whatever Andy wanted could wait.

Her older sister’s actions made Andy feel all panicky inside. Bella didn’t act like this, there was a weird look in her older sister’s eyes and she wasn’t answering. When Bellatrix lay down on the floor, Andy decided she had to do something. 

Druella had only just arrived back from the tea she had been attending when a frantic Andromeda ran into the room. “Bella’s hurt! She won’t answer!” Not waiting for a response, she grabbed onto her mother’s arm and tugged with all the weight she could manage. Druella obliged her daughter and followed quickly. It didn’t surprise her in the least to find Bellatrix covered in evidence of Cygnus’ temper. She had felt many of the same things herself in the early years of their marriage and for the short time she had taken Bellatrix’s punishment in place of the girl. 

“She’ll be alright,” Druella reassured her daughter, snapping for house elves. “You go find your other sister and play with her. I’ll put Bellatrix to bed and she’ll be feeling fine by dinner.”

Andy looked unconvinced but she nodded and headed out of the room, glancing back at her sister who had been picked up by a few house elves in order to move her to her own room. She trusted her mother, if Druella said that Bella would be okay by dinner, she’d be okay by dinner. That was the nice thing about magic; it could fix most everything.


	11. Magic Flowers of Gold

Narcissa was excited, tomorrow was her seventh birthday and that meant she got her own room today. No more nursery for her, she was finally getting her own room with a four poster and her own bathroom with a gorgeous porcelain tub. She knew what room she was getting, the one right next to the nursery, across from Andromeda’s room. Bellatrix’s room was down the hall, since, being the oldest, she had gotten first choice. Cissy had watched them both get their own rooms on their seventh birthday, the year they became young ladies. It was now her turn to move into the grown up world.

Her excitement over the event had caused her to wake up extra early. She wanted to start planning, choosing colors and bedding and furniture and everything. Mother had promised to take her out shopping right after breakfast. Wall color was easy, a quick charm but the rest of it, her bed, the rest of the furniture, as well anything else she wanted, she would pick out today. The furniture that was in the room already would go into the attic. It could be transferred into another guest room down the road if Druella thought that room needed a new look, or if they bought another summer home that wasn’t appropriately furnished. It was antique, but it seemed gloomy to the little blonde. It didn’t suit her. Bellatrix had kept her bed, the large orate oak seemed to fit her sister, and did not seem as imposing as the one in the room she had been given. It was not something Narcissa wanted to sleep in. She wanted something lighter, perhaps even lighter than what Andy had picked out.

Andy and Bella were going to come along with her because she’d asked them. They would go to Diagon Alley, pick everything out and have ice cream for lunch. Well, Narcissa wasn’t so sure about whether she’d be getting ice cream for lunch but she had been promised ice cream and so the sweet treat she was getting. Even if she had to attend lunch at one of those fancy restaurants where she’d sit through three courses and mother would try to ruin her appetite for ice cream. But it was always easier to beg treats off her mother when a holiday was here and Narcissa considered her birthday a holiday. Her sisters would be there to help wear Druella down, if needed. Although, Bella had already insinuated Cissa wouldn’t need help with getting her way, something like, “you know you’re the favorite Cissy, take advantage of it.”

If ice cream counted as taking advantage of it, she was going to get her ice cream.

She wondered if her sisters were up yet. Even if people were not up yet, Cissy knew that she was not going to be able to go back to sleep. She was far too excited. Tonight she’d be going to sleep in her own room, to wake up as a seven year old, a proper young lady. That certainly warranted more than a bit of excitement.

If she was up, she might as well get dressed, no sense in sitting around in her pajamas. Plus she had already picked out the perfect dress for today. It was necessary to look good for such an important turning point in her life. Narcissa always dressed nicely, as per her position in society. She knew that her mother would never let her out in rags like some people went about in. There was no shabbiness allowed. That was for poor and ugly people. She was a Black which made her special and she would always have the best of everything. Including dresses for picking out what would go in her brand new room. 

The perfect dress was a pale pink, like soft rose petals, with a deep rose sash that tied in a nice bow on the right side with the ribbons running down to the hem. It was a square neckline and there were no sleeves, which meant she could wear her favorite hand crocheted lace shrug over it with the little pearls that went along the edge. The skirt was moderately full, and Narcissa gave a little twirl watching how it swung away from her body in a lovely wide circle. Just the right amount, not so much that she looked like a bell. It was the also the perfect length, hitting right at her knees. It really was the perfect almost-birthday dress. The dress for tomorrow’s celebration was even grandeur then this one, but that was a party dress and this was an everyday dress. Even if it was a special day today and this dress would be special. 

White patent leather shoes over little lace socks completed her clothing ensemble. There were still earrings and a hair ribbon to pick out. Not difficult choices, her favorite diamond earring studs went with the dress and she wanted a white hair ribbon. The hardest part of the decision was going to be whether she wanted the ribbon as a headband or if she wanted it to be a bow. A decision to be made after she brushed her hair. 

Picking up her hairbrush with her name engraved in silver on the back, Cissa crossed to her bed to sit down and started the long process of making her hair shiny. It took a while to look good; she had stick straight hair, unlike Bella who she was sure did not brush her hair, and unlike Andy who had waves. Her hair was stick straight and it required a lot of brushing. Mother said it was because it was long, that if it were shorter it would curl more, because it had when she was little but Narcissa wasn’t so sure about that. Any curl her hair used to have was gone. It could hold curl and sometimes her mother did fancy things to put it into “adorable little ringlets” but today it would be straight. 

Finally, she was satisfied with the shine of her hair, turning he head and squinting into the mirror so she could see how her hair caught the light. It would do. She compared the headband look to the bow look and decided that the headband looked more grownup. The ribbon stood out stark white against her golden hair, but she liked the contrast. It would bring attention to how gorgeous her hair was.

It took her all of five seconds to get bored of waiting in the nursery and she wandered down the hall, ready to wake up her sisters if they were not awake yet. Andromeda first, it was better to not approach Bella alone. Andy was already up, she answered her door when Narcissa knocked, but she was still in her pajamas. 

“Get dressed!” Narcissa admonished. “I want to go shopping and I need you to help me wake up Bella.” 

Andromeda rolled her eyes but she let Cissy come in. She perched herself on the bed while Andy rooted through the closet, pulling out a navy blue dress, in a similar style to Narcissa’s only there were sleeves on her dress. Narcissa didn’t think Andromeda’s dress was as nice as her own, which was good since she wanted to be the one to draw attention. A quick brush of Andromeda’s hair and the older girl pronounced herself ready to go into the den of the fierce tiger, otherwise known as Bella’s room. Cissy practically skipped down the hall; once Bella was up they could go downstairs, get breakfast and be on their way. She had heard her parent’s voices from downstairs, so she knew they were up. All that she needed was an awake oldest sister. 

Andromeda rapped sharply on the door a few times before turning the handle and letting themselves into the room. It was still dark, only the tiniest beam of light making it’s way through the drawn curtains. It wasn’t surprising that their older sister was still in bed. Bella was almost always the last one of them up, often needing to be prodded and poked in order to be roused. Mother once had a house elf dump a bucket of water on the girl in order to get them out of the house on time. There had been lots of yelling that day, and Bella had tried to lock her door from then on in, causing Druella to spell the door so it couldn’t be locked. Which was good for Bella’s younger sisters as they wouldn’t be able to get in otherwise.

Andromeda headed to the windows and pulled back the heavy damask curtains letting sunlight fill the room, and hit Bella across the face. The sable haired older girl let out a noise like an injured cat, an arm coming up to protect her eyes from the light and rolled over onto her stomach, a muffled “Go away,” barely discernible. 

Cissy ran straight at her sister’s bed, “Wake up Bella! Wake up so we can go shopping!” Bella groaned in response and Narcissa took that as a sign to climb up on her sister’s bed, patting her on the shoulder. “Come on! Wake up!” 

Bella attempted to pull the covers over her head, but Cissa was sitting on the bedcovers and she wasn’t able to get them far. “I’m _sleeping_!” Bellatrix whined. “As in actually asleep.”

“No, you aren’t Bella,” Andy spoke up. “If you are talking, you aren’t asleep.”

“I _was_!” Bella sat up and glared at Andromeda. “I was asleep until you two popped in here and disturbed me. Who invited you?! Get out!”

Andy stood her ground over by the windows and Cissy’s eyes welled up with fake tears. Narcissa had learned that tears got her almost anything she wanted if she did it correctly, but she didn’t want to actually cry and get all blotchy and red eyed. Usually if someone saw her welling up, they’d go along with her. No tears needed to be spilled. “But it’s my birthday.”

“Your birthday is tomorrow,” Bella insisted but she wasn’t immune to the tears and with an overdramatic sigh swung her legs over to the side of the bed and stood up. Cissa rewarded Bella with a big smile once she faked dabbing away the tears. The crucial thing to fake crying was in the small details.

“I’ll go let mother know we’re all up,” said Andromeda and she left the room, but Cissy knew better than to leave her sister right after she got out of bed. Bella would push some piece of furniture in front of the door and crawl back under the covers. She had to stick around and make sure that her sister stayed up. Bella gave another sigh when she saw what Cissy was doing, clearly her older sister had planned on going straight back to sleep.

“I don’t know why we have to go shopping so early,” Bella complained. Narcissa didn’t take the bait, merely waiting for her sister to get dressed. Arguing with Bella was one of those things she didn’t bother doing. Her sister was more than two years older than her and when it came to arguing Bella always won, unless there were tears involved. As long as she didn’t say anything, Bella would eventually get dressed.

Which she did, and soon Narcissa was happily accompanying her older sister downstairs, Bella dressed in a white blouse and emerald green skirt. The masses of curls that the oldest had been blessed with were braided down her back in one long plait, tied with a black ribbon. The pair looked polar opposites coming into the dining room. Narcissa with her pale dress and pale hair, looking like a little angel, albeit a bit snooty, and Bellatrix, with the starker colors against darker features, already looking the part of a supercilious society girl. 

Breakfast was short lived and soon the Black women headed out to Diagon Alley in order to have Narcissa pick out all her new belongings. It did not take her that long to make her decisions, similar to how it hadn’t taken that long for her sisters to make their decisions. All three girls had defined tastes already. Purchases were entrusted to house elves to get home and place in Narcissa’s new room. Later she’d get to arrange it exactly how she want it. 

Narcissa was disappointed to find out they were going to lunch at one of those fancy places where there would be many courses and lots of small portions of unrecognizable food. She had been hoping they would skip straight to the ice cream, not having the patience to sit through soup and salad and an entrée and coffee and nuts or whatever all the courses were today. Eventually lunch was over, and the group headed to Fortescue’s before heading home. 

After arriving in their fireplace, Cissy ran up the stairs, eager to set her room to rights. Her mother joined her for the only bit of it that the house elves could not do- charming the walls the soft peach Cissa had decided on. Once her walls were done, she stood in the center of the room and started ordering the house elves around. The elves rushed around, doing everything she told them to do and soon all her furniture was in place and all her belongings moved in from the nursery. All that was left were the little gold flowers that were supposed to be a border right over the chair rail moulding. The flowers shimmered in the light as the house elves meticulously placed them where they were supposed to go. The finishing touch.

Once they were done, Cissy admired her room. Much like her sister’s rooms looked like them, she was sure that her room also reflected her. She was happy to no longer be in the nursery. The nursery was nice but she had gotten no say in how it looked, none of them had. Here she had picked everything, right now to the little flowers. There were a few extras scattered across the carpets, having ordered the house elves to leave them. She knew that there was more stored away in case the delicate blossoms on the wall got damaged. But these were actual extras. She could play with them if she wanted to, or stick them other places in the room. Although that would probably be tacky.

Picking one off the carpet she held in her hand, admiring the slender petals. It was so light, so delicate. Wouldn’t it be pretty floating in the air? Cissa attempted to throw it into the air, watching it float lazily back down to its fellows. Not quite the same as she had imagined. Carefully, she collected a bunch of them from the ground, throwing them up into the air, expecting a gentle cascade.

Only this time they didn’t float back to the ground as the first one had done. They flitted around a bit, coming to rest in the air right by her shoulders. Narcissa shrieked with joy and the little blossoms danced in the sound.

The scream caused her sisters to poke their heads in. Seeing her sister surrounded by little gold things Bella yelled for Druella. “Mother! Narcissa is doing magic!” At the call, they could all hear their mother rushing to view the occasion.  
“Darling!” Druella exclaimed as she entered, happy that she got to see the magic of one of her daughters and not simply the aftermath. “Your father will be so glad to hear it, we’ll tell him at dinner tonight.”

Narcissa smiled, she had been waiting for this day. How appropriate it came with her transition to being a young lady. With her smile, the flowers settled down on her, dusting her hair and dress with golden sparkles. They were so going to have ice cream for dinner.


	12. Little Green Wisp of a Sprout

Bellatrix could not be described as a patient person. When fellow acquaintances of hers went off to Hogwarts on September first, there was a tantrum in the Black household. She would be eleven in fifty seven days! She found it utterly ridiculous and could not believe she was going to have to wait a whole year. It was a good thing for Bellatrix that her father was away on business that day, as he never would have tolerated her. Maybe that was why she threw such a fit- knowing she could get away with it. Druella was not going to be as harsh as Cygnus. All her punishment ended up being was going to bed without any supper and that was hardly punishment. Bella thought her mother must be incredibly stupid. After all, she could order the house elves to bring her food and it was far more fun to sit in the middle of her floor and have a picnic than sit in the stuffy dining room.

Everyone won that way, although Druella, who had a headache half the day due to Bellatrix screaming, might not have agreed.

Bellatrix was not the only impatient child with a birthday after the first of September as Druella learned at one of her tea parties the following week. Several women complained about that day, even though their children had known they would not go until next year. Basically any child who had a birthday between now and February was unhappy about it, whether it made sense or not. One unlucky woman had her gown set on fire by her son, and that had only been the beginning of what the boy had done. Suddenly Druella found herself thankful that Bella had not been able to do much more than scream and throw things, not having a wand to focus her magic through. Thank goodness. Cygnus had said the girls were not allowed their own wands until their eleventh birthdays. One of the few times she was happy they weren’t boys. If Bella had been a boy, chances were the tantrum would have involved a wand. 

Bellatrix was in a mood for the next fifty-seven days, incessantly checking the mail, ordering the house elves to check the mail for her, and stomping around when her letter was not discovered. Andromeda and Narcissa smartly stayed away from her mail rages. Druella tried a few times to reiterate that the letter would not come until her birthday, only to be rewarded with overdramatic sighs and screeching. If Cygnus caught her dramatics, which was rare, Bellatrix got slapped hard and pushed roughly in the direction of her room.

October Twenty Seventh could not come fast enough.

The day of her eleventh birthday, Bellatrix, who normally tried to sleep in as late as possible, was the first one downstairs, startling the house elves by bursting into the parlor at 4:30 am and demanding a fire. Truthfully, she had not been able to sleep at all, too excited for her letter and the wand that would be coming. She had tried but she had been waiting for this day for what seemed like forever and that had prevented any chance of slumber. 

And she was still waiting. She had to wait through breakfast, taking her annoyance out on her soft-boiled egg and toast. She had to wait through her father discussing completely boring ministry politics. In fact, she had to wait until almost noon before the coveted letter arrived. Bella was getting grumpy about it again- sleep deprivation not helping, when the house elf finally walked in and handed her a letter with the Hogwarts crest.

Bella ripped open the parchment with a joyous shriek, Cygnus not bothering to reprimand her. In his opinion the letter should have already been delivered. It was clear that with Dumbledore at the head of the school standards were deteriorating faster every year. Letters should be delivered first thing in the morning. Especially to the right families. There was no acceptable reason for the tardiness.
    
    
    Hogwarts School _of_  Witchcraft _and_  Wizardry  
    
    Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
    
    ( _Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwamp, International Confed. of Wizards_ )
    
    Dear Miss Black,
    We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.  
    
    Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31.
    
      Yours Sincerely,  
    
    Horace Slughorn  
    
    _Head of Slytherin House_

A small handwritten note was scrawled in the corner, reading: _It will be a pleasure to have you at Hogwarts Miss Black._ Bellatrix smiled, she had heard of Horace Slughorn from her parents; along with something about how it was a shame he had not become headmaster and practically a crime that Dumbledore had overlooked him for the position of deputy headmaster. But with him at the school, at least someone there in a position of authority would know what they were doing. Bellatrix continued onto the supply list. 
    
    
      
    
    
      Hogwarts School _of_  Witchcraft _and_  Wizardry
    
      UNIFORM  
    
    First-year students will require:  
    
    1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)  
    
    2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear  
    
    3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)  
    
    4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)  
    
    Please note that all pupil’s clothes should carry name tags
    
      COURSE BOOKS  
    
    All students should have a copy of each of the following  
    
    _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ by Miranda Goshawk  
    
    _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot  
    
    _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling  
    
    _A Beginners’ Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch  
    
    _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore  
    
    _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger  
    
    _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander  
    
    _The Dark Forces: Volume One, Beginnings of Protection_ by Dedalus Crockford
    
      OTHER EQUIPMENT  
    
    1 wand  
    
    1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)  
    
    1 set of glass or crystal phials  
    
    1 telescope  
    
    1 set brass scales  
    
    Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
    
      PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.
    
    
    
    

The minute she finished reading, Bellatrix jumped out of her chair, asking, “Diagon Alley?” September first might have been ten months away but Bella did not want to waste a second more waiting for her wand. After what seemed like several days to the impatient Bellatrix, all five of them were set to go and gathered in front of the fireplace, including the two elves that would accompany them. After all, they could not carry their purchases, being far too important for that. That was what normal people did and they were far superior to anyone considered average. 

One by one, the Blacks called out the name of the appropriate destination before stepping through the green flames. All seasoned Floo travelers, not one of them arrived sooty. Cygnus quickly took handle of the situation, sending Druella and the younger girls off to get the majority of the supplies while he took Bellatrix to Ollivander’s. Normally her energy annoyed him, but the excitement of getting her wand was understandable and acceptable. She seemed to be restraining herself. Bella was neither bouncing or skipping due to being in the presence of her father but he could not take away the perk in her step or the spark in her eyes. 

“Mr. Black,” greeted Ollivander when they entered his store. “And Miss Bellatrix. It must be your birthday today.” 

Bella nodded, “I’m here for my wand.” 

“Of course, of course. A very happy eleventh birthday!” Mr. Ollivander exclaimed, grabbing a nearby tape measure. “Which is your wand arm?” 

Bella held out her left arm and Ollivander started to measure, shoulder to finger, wrist to elbow, and then let the tape measure continue on its own. He, with the preliminary measurements, went scurrying off to grab a few boxes, returning with several boxes full of wands, a few of which he discarded as he noted the rest of the measurements. The rest he left for Bellatrix to try, holding out the first. “Now this is a fine wand, ten and three quarter inches made of willow with a unicorn tail hair. Go ahead. Give it a spin.” 

Bella picked it up and waved it around, declaring, “No,” before the shopkeeper could say so himself. 

“Perhaps this? Reed with dragon heartstring, eleven inches.” 

Bella waved the wand around and again knew this was not it. She was waiting for something spectacular to happen. It was her _wand_ , it was not any old thing. No, this was important and she would have the perfect wand or they would go someplace else until they found the perfect wand. They went through several wands this way, Ollivander suggesting something that Bellatrix put down almost as fast as she picked up. None of them were right and Bella began to grow annoyed. 

Seeing her scowl the shop owner tried to subdue her annoyance. “Don’t fret Miss Black. I seem to have assumed you’d be like many of the other little girls who come in here for their wands. I clearly am wrong. You will need something completely different.” Still muttering to himself, Ollivander headed towards the stacks of wands on the shelves, grabbing two new boxes and returning to the counter. “It’s my mistake,” the shopkeeper repeated before handing Bellatrix another wand. “This should be more to your liking. Twelve and three quarter inches, walnut, dragon heartstring.” 

Bella eagerly grasped the wood, glad to hear she was different and therefore special. Better than those other girls who got stupid wands like the ones he had offered her earlier. Those wands felt like nothing in her hand. The minute her fingers wrapped around _this_ wand she knew what she had been looking for. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up and her arms broke out in goose pimples. This. Was. It. This was _her_ wand. She did not need to wave it around to feel the connection she had with it, that had been automatic. However, she could not help but wave it, clearly speaking the words to levitate one of the rejected wand boxes up to the eye level of the adults. 

Mr. Ollivander looked a little surprised as to how well she took to the wand. He had seen many strange things in his time as a wand maker, even after all these years could not get everyone on first guess, but still some wand bonds surprised him. Most of the little pureblood girls he sold to got shorter wands, most of them very flexible or swishy even if they were masculine wood. Here was little Bellatrix Black snatching up one of the most stubborn and rigid wands he made. It certainly did not fit the way she looked, that was for sure. 

“We’ll need a duplicate made,” Cygnus instructed. 

“Of course, I can make up a few choices and have them delivered to you by the end of the week. Keep whichever one is best.” Ollivander started noting the dimensions of the wand, with short curious glances over at the young girl who had continued playing with her wand by levitating each box left on the counter and scooting them around, clearly enjoying her new found power. 

“What is it?” Cygnus asked harshly. “What do you kept staring at?” 

“Nothing. Merely a bit surprised.” 

“Why?” demanded Cygnus. 

“It’s a harsh wand for a little girl. Unyielding. Simply a bit unexpected.” Ollivander finished up his notes. “I’ll put these on your tab?” 

“Yes,” answered Cygnus but he was distracted, watching Bellatrix play with her new wand. Couldn’t even pick a normal _wand_? Picked something entirely inappropriate for her sex. An unyielding wand was a boy’s wand to grow into, to help him become a man. Women were supposed to yield. Headstrong and stubborn were not attractive traits. 

“Would you like me to package that up?” Ollivander asked Bellatrix opening up the case the wand had come in. 

“No,” answered Bella. “I’m carrying it. It’s _my_ wand now.” 

Ollivander nodded, it seemed to him the girl was about as stubborn as her wand. A better fit than he thought originally. She would not be letting it out of her sight. He would send the box to the house along with the other wands in case she wanted it later. Looking at her, it wasn’t likely. 

“Are you sure that’s the right wand?” Cygnus questioned the shopkeeper thinking he could nip this in the bud and get her something more appropriate, more feminine. 

Bella’s eyes flashed wide. No one was taking this wand from her. “Mine,” she told her father, stopping only because he held his hand up for her silence and it was a good idea to not annoy him if she wanted to make sure she kept this wand. Protectively, she slipped it into the pocket of her skirt, left hand still holding tight to the end. 

“I do not want her having the wrong wand,” Cygnus continued. “Nothing harsh.” 

“The wand chooses the wizard,” Ollivander explained, shrugging a little. “Or witch, in her case. I’m sure you remember your own…” 

“A harsh wand is not right for a little girl,” Cygnus interrupted. It wouldn’t matter if he had chosen a wand like that, but this was a girl they were talking about, not him nor any other man. 

“The wand chose her, it won’t work for anyone else now. She clearly has a bond with that wand. Not all the girls get traditionally feminine wands. Your sister has a wand similar to this.” 

Bellatrix had been biting her lip throughout the exchange but at Ollivanders words, her mouth twitched up in a smug smirk and the shopkeeper knew he must have said something right. Cygnus nodded, apparently if a rigid wand was good enough for Walburga, Bellatrix would be allowed to get this wand. Truthfully the wands were not very similar at all. Walburga’s had the same core, but no two dragons were alike and there was no way the two wands were from the same dragon, having been made decades apart. The older woman’s wand was more masculine than average for a woman but not on the same level as Bellatrix’s. Not as stubborn as Bellatrix’s. But Ollivander had never seen a parent try to change their child’s wand and he was not going to let it happen. If that was the wand for this girl, then it was her wand, and that was all there was to it. 

With the wand taken care of, Cygnus made for the door, followed by Bellatrix. At the door the girl turned around and gave a quick smile at Ollivander. He took it as a mark of appreciation and he winked back at her, noticing how her hand was still attached to the wand in her pocket. He was not sure exactly what she was going to do with such a wand, but it was clear to him no other would have done. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hogwarts letter and supply list comes straight from Rowling, minus the DADA book.


	13. Lifesized

Druella walked through the house for what seemed like the umpteenth time today. Walburga and her boys would be arriving shortly and everything needed to be perfect. It was not Druella’s responsibility to ready the house for Walburga, that was the job for a house elf and she was not a servant by any means. But, she was not going to bother arguing or even trying to argue out that particular point with Walburga. Walburga was a stickler and since this was a joint vacation, or rather one without their respective husbands, she was going to have to defer to the older woman. Damn her being twice a Black and therefore believing everything should be to her tastes.

It was easier to pretend that had Walburga gotten here first with her family, she would have readied the part of the house Druella and her girls were living in. Druella was doubtful of that, but she had cultivated a mantra of pretending. It was less stressful that way, and she knew she was not the only woman who did it. Centuries of woman before her pretended things and she would not be the last. One in a long line. Her daughters would probably pretend, no wait, she would pretend they would not have to pretend. Her daughters were at the top of the social standing, there was a chance they would not be pretending like she was. Of course, the Rosiers were of excellent social standing and here she was pretending…

Walburga’s half of the house, or her wing rather, was ready for her and her sons arrival. Druella had been working all morning to make sure. The house elves had arranged her side, and she could not see why that was not good enough for Walburga. Walburga had sent a letter stating what needed to be done and while Druella could theoretically have handed the instructions to the house elves, the proper thing to do was to oversee the house elves and check everything personally for her guests. Even if the house was theirs as well. Society dictated it. 

Narcissa had helped out earlier, before lunch time. Her youngest took the most intrest in things like that. After lunch all three girls had disappeared. She was fairly confident they were not at the beach. It had been drizzling earlier and since all were excited to see their cousins, they’d be sticking around the house until they were here.

Walburga had said she’d be here by three, but it was already an hour past. Dinner would need to be started soon but she did not want to give the house elves the instructions to make dinner for seven if there would only be four again. For all Druella knew, Walburga would not show up until tomorrow. It would be like her to make Druella run about all day preparing and then show up the day after. Then she would be able to complain about how the flowers weren’t fresh. Druella swore that if Walburga did not show up, she was replacing all the flowers first thing tomorrow morning to head off any such complaints.

She put up with it though. This would be the last time all five children would be together until Christmas. Bellatrix would be starting her first year at Hogwarts in a few weeks. While the children usually saw each other frequently there would be over three months in which Bella would be unable to join the others in their play. Druella was looking forward to the vacation even if she had to share the house with Walburga. It would be good for the children to spend time together before the start of the school year. Once Walburga arrived there should be no more stress with her sister in law. The woman might be cold and demanding but she knew how to relax and enjoy a vacation. It was not as if the two women did not get along. They would never be best friends but they enjoyed each other’s presence more than they enjoyed being around several other people.

There ended up no need to worry about the flowers. A moment after Druella finished her walk through there was a noise at the fireplace and out fell Sirius, covered in ash and laughing like a hyena. Seconds later there was another burst of flame and Walburga reached forward and grabbed her mischievous son by his collar before he could run off. It appeared Sirius had been trying to give his mother a run for her money before their arrival and Druella couldn’t help but wonder if Sirius had been trying for somewhere else but ended up here instead.

“Here,” Walburga instructed Druella, handing Regulus over to her. Upstairs, Druella could hear a slight bump of a trunk, indicating the house elves were unpacking for the other Black family. The trunks must have been unusually heavy or lopsided because normally the house elves were completely silent. It was their job after all. No one wanted to hear the creatures.

Walburga easily upended her son over the end of a nearby chaise, despite his struggling. She yanked his pants down and gave him a few short raps against his rump, the woman’s hand leaving a red print. Druella did not say anything, it was only a spanking. She would not have cared if Cygnus spanked the girls, it was the beatings she worried about. But her mind was made up about those already and it was not her place to tell Walburga what to do with her son. He probably deserved it.

“KREACHER!” screamed Walburga, finished with spanking her son. She still had him by the shirt and Sirius was left to yank his own pants up, a scowl on his face. 

The house elf in question appeared immediately, bowing low in front of its mistress. Druella was surprised. All her house elves were under strict orders to not apparate in front of wizards or witches, or ever the children, unless it was an emergency. She had always thought that Walburga and Orion had the same rule. It was unlikely they wanted the things doing that in front of people. Sometimes it was unsettling, which was completely the opposite point of having house elves. They were there to make life easier, not pop out of corners. This did not appear to be anything urgent but it was possible that Walburga was not taking any chances with Sirius. He seemed to be a very rambunctious boy and it was quite possible that she did not want him to escape out from under the watch of someone if she sent him off by himself. It was not as if one could expect Walburga to drag her son off to his punishment. Druella could not blame her, making Bellatrix behave was a headache and a half, and it always seemed to her that Sirius took after his cousin.

“Mistress called Kreacher?” the elf asked. “What can Kreacher do for his Mistress?”

“Take Sirius upstairs. He may not come down for dinner. He may not be visited by his cousins. He may not leave for any reason. You will not take orders from him.”

“Kreacher will not listen to Master Sirius at all. His Mistress’s orders come first.”  
Kreacher latched himself onto Sirius and starting dragging the boy towards the stairs, Sirius kicking up a fuss the entire way. Walburga shook her head once with an air of annoyance before reaching over and taking Regulus from Druella.

“Siri?” the child asked.

“Your brother was bad today and so he has to serve punishment. You are a good boy so you don’t have to,” Walburga put him down, and took his hand. “Shall we go find your cousins?”

Sirius might not have been allowed to see anyone that evening but it was not long before he was hunting down his cousins, Bellatrix in particular. He found her sitting on the beach, watching her sisters and Regulus the next day.

“Did you bring your wand?” he asked, plopping down next to her. “I want to see more of what you can do.”

“Of course I brought my wand,” Bella retorted. “What else would I do with it, leave it lying around for one of the house elves to touch?”

“Show me something.”

“No.”

“Come on Bella. I’m bored.”

“Do I look like I am supposed to be your entertainment? Go play with Reg.”

“He’s boring. He’s a baby.”

“Go play with Cissy and Andy then.”

“They are playing with Reg.”

“So?”

“He’s always around. And boring. I want to play with you.”

“No. You want me to use my wand. And I’m not going to.”

“YOU’RE MEAN!”

Bella only laughed in response as Sirius headed towards his brother and other cousins. If she was not going to do anything cool it was not worth it to hang around her. Hopefully she would show off some other day. If she did, he was going to not be interested, to get her back for saying no.

After lunch, Bellatrix was feeling the need to use her wand. She carried it everywhere, but it was not a toy to entertain the other children. She liked it when they fawned over her new ability to control her magic, even if all she was doing was mimicking the adults around her and all the spells were consequently quite simple. Any of the more complicated spells, anything that involved more than basic wand waving, she would have to wait for until after she learned it at Hogwarts. Mostly she levitated things. There were lots of fun things you could do by levitating things. Like dump a bucket of sand on someone’s head.

Which was how she got Sirius’s attention once all five of them headed back to the beach, with Bellatrix under strict orders to watch the younger children. An order she rolled her eyes at, there were house elves, there was no reason for her to be in charge of their safety. But she was hardly going to argue, Bellatrix was not going to ignore her family. After all, family was everything. And her family was superior to most so something happening to one of them would be ten times worse than something happening to someone else. Plus it was her duty as the oldest and Bella set a great store by duty, even at her age.

It was not a lot of sand, a small cup size bucket’s worth but Sirius shouted as he stood up and tried to get the sand off him. Noticing Bella’s giggles, he headed over to her and threw a handful of sand at her. She kicked him and he fell into the sand. 

“I thought you wanted to see me use my wand?”

“Not on me!”

“Too bad. Too late. Sand looks good on you Siri.”

“I hate you.” Sirius gave her a five-year-olds best imitation of a death glare.

“Changed your mind?” Bella taunted. “Don’t want to see any magic?”

Sirius debated for a moment. The look on Bella’s face would be priceless if he said he was not interested but he was interested. Especially if they dumped sand on Regulus. His mother kept promising his brother would get more interesting as he got older. So far, he hadn’t. His brother was still boring.

“Maybe I don’t think you can do magic.”

“So your mother dropped the sand on you?”

“Kreacher.”

“He’s not even here, you idiot.”

“He dumped the sand and then ran away.”

“I’ll call him and ask him,” Bella replied smugly. “I’ll make him tell the truth.”

Sirius made a face, but he could not figure out any way to refute that. There would be no reason Kreacher would lie for him unless he ordered it to and there would be no way to do that without Bella knowing. He was stuck.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “You win. Show me some magic, yeah?”

“Okay,” Bella replied, pointing her wand at one of the other children’s toys. “Wingardium Leviosa.” The toy lifted itself up off the ground and hovered.

Sirius’ mouth fell open. “I want to do that.”

“You have to show evidence of magical abilities first. Have you done any magic yet?”

“No,” Sirius responded sullenly.

“You are probably a squib then. _I_ had already done my first magic by the time I was your age.”

“I’m not a squib!” Sirius yelled, launching himself at Bellatrix who scooted out of the way, causing the boy to fall into the sand.

Bella laughed at him again. “Do some magic then.”

“I will!” Sirius exclaimed. “Just watch! I’m doing it right now.”

Bella rolled her eyes but scooted back next to him. “What are you going to do?”

“Bury you in sand,” he answered angrily.

“Here,” she offered. “I’ll make it easier for you.” She lay down in the sand. “Now you don’t have to move the sand as far.”

“I _don’t_ need your _help!_ ”

“Too bad. I’m not moving. 

Sirius growled at her but she only smirked. She was not going to move because her little cousin said too, or implied he would like it. She was the oldest so they had to listen to her anyway. All the time. They did not get to tell her what to do. He gave up trying to get her to move. It was not worth the hassle. He knitted his eyebrows together and squinted at the sand around Bellatrix, willing it to rise up and cover his cousin.

Nothing moved.

Sirius clenched his fists at his sides and continued to grimace at the sand.

“Looks like you’re a squib Siri,” Bella teased as she sat up and dusted sand off herself. “Don’t worry. I’ll still talk to you when you get blasted off the family tree for not being magical.”

“You are… not funny.”

“Who is getting blasted off the tree?” asked Andromeda, coming up behind them. 

“Sirius is a squib,” Bella replied, much to the embarrassment of the little boy, who flushed red.

“Am not!” he insisted.

“Haven’t done any magic though,” Bella retorted.

“Don’t mind her Siri,” Andromeda said soothingly. “Bella is just a freak when it comes to magic. I didn’t do magic until I was six. Cissy didn’t until she was seven. You have plenty of time. You only have to do some before your eleventh birthday.”

“HA!” Sirius yelled. “Not a squib!”

Bella made a face and stuck out her tongue at Andromeda. “Why’d you go and do that?”

“Because he’s five.”

“I’m almost _six._ ”

“Whatever. Where are Cissy and Reg? I got a bucket for us.”

Bella pointed towards Narcissa and Regulus and Andromeda headed towards them, bucket in hand. Once Andy was out of earshot and could not refute what she said, she attempted to bother Sirius some more. “You do realize that since I did my magic at a younger age, I’ll always be more powerful than you.”

Sirius stuck his tongue out at her, which she quickly returned. “You are the worst cousin ever,” he groaned.

“No, I’m not,” she retorted. “Plus I’m the only one with a wand and I thought you wanted to dump something on Reg.”

“I’ll just wait until Andy gets a wand.”

“That’s not until November. I have a wand now.”

“Watch me wait.” He crossed his arms over his chest.

“She won’t do it anyway. She’d think it would be mean to play a trick on someone that young. You are stuck with me. Or,” Bella gave him an evil smile, “you can wait until you are eleven.”

“No!” he exclaimed, eleven being far too many years away to wait. “Dump sand on him.”

“No. I want to try a bucket of water.”

“Yes!” Sirius shouted happily. “Get Andy and Cissy too.”

“Already was planning too. Pick a big enough bucket and fill it with water.”

Sirius’ eyed her for a moment, skeptical.

“I’m only eleven nimwit, magic is harder than it looks! If you want to get them wet, you have to help out.”

“I can’t carry a big enough bucket by myself.”

Sirius grabbed the biggest bucket around and headed towards the ocean, followed closely by Bellatrix. The pair tipped the bucket over and filled it with the cold water, mixed with sand and seaweed, which thrilled both of them, Sirius thinking how Regulus would look like a tentacle covered sea creature and Bella inwardly giggling over Narcissa’s guaranteed melodramatic reaction to getting sand and seaweed in her hair. After getting the bucket as full as they could carry, they both started dragging it towards their three unsuspecting victims. Bella was not going to try to levitate it over any sort of major distance. Maybe after she got home for Christmas and had been learning magic for a few months. Right now it made more sense to move the object closer to the person, or persons. It needed to be right by them, or she might lose concentration and the bucket would not get them wet at all. 

“Distract them,” she whispered to Sirius, who scampered towards his cousins. With the bucket in position she waved her wand and started the tedious process of moving it the last foot or so towards them and getting it above their heads. 

“What are you up to?” Sirius asked. “Is that a castle thing?”

“Yes,” answered Andy. “We are building a sand castle. Want to help?”

“Nah, I’ll watch. What’s that?” Sirius pointed at a part of the castle and Andy or Cissy explained. He continued to point at things and make them explain while he snuck glances at Bella. When he saw the bucket over Reg’s head he took off running towards his cousin who promptly upended the bucket onto the other three, moving the bucket to the side to get both her sisters before it hit the ground with a thump. Bella and Sirius fell over in the sand, laughing uproariously.

Regulus looked very startled, his eyes wide , he had not gotten too much water before she’d had to move the bucket to make sure she got her sisters but there was always the chance of him crying which would spoil all the fun but right now he only looked shocked. It was Narcissa who shrieked, upset that her hair was hanging in strings down her face, with bits of seaweed attached. Andy sputtered, shaking the water out of her hair, when she noticed the two laughing. 

“Cissa! Reg!” she yelled. “Grab one of the buckets! Get them!” 

It took Narcissa and Regulus a second to realize what she was saying but they caught on quickly, grabbing buckets for payback, Narcissa also taking the hand of Regulus so he would not lag too far behind and get lost. Bellatrix and Sirius noticed them and took off running down the beach, all five of them shrieking and yelling.


	14. Before the Street Begins

Bellatrix stood on platform nine and three quarters with her family. Sending the first Black of the generation to Hogwarts had been made into a big event, which included them dressing the part. Bellatrix wore a pleated grey skirt and a green short-sleeved button up with rounded collar-the closest match to Slytherin she already had in her wardrobe. Grey bobby socks and black patent leather shoes completed her outfit. One of the house elves had braided her hair in a long plait down her back, secured with a green ribbon. It would have been easy to mistake the calm collected girl for a second or third year Slytherin if someone missed that her black robes bore no house insignia. While on the outside Bellatrix seemed blasé about the whole event, inside she was dying of excitement. She was going to learn real magic! 

She already knew spells, an advantage of being part of a wizarding family. Since she had gotten a wand of her own she had been experimenting, to the delight of her younger relatives and horror of house elves that had been helpless subjects. It had all been things easy to mimic by watching adults. At first it had been more difficult, most of the adults were used to performing most magic nonverbally, but with a burgeoning witch in the household, even her father had taken to speaking spells out loud should he remember she was in the room. Uncle Alphard was the best. He had shown her some spell work step by step and later that evening she proudly transformed one of Narcissa’s hair pins into a match. Both her sisters had been impressed until Bellatrix could not transfigure it back into a pin and Druella had to be fetched. Hogwarts was going to mean a reform of what she already knew in order to perfect it, as well as advancing into more complicated spell work.

Her sisters were dressed in matching dresses, a dark blue for Andromeda and periwinkle for fair-haired Narcissa. Little Sirius and Regulus were matching with grey short pants, white button ups and green ties. Regulus was still too young to mess up his outfit but Sirius hated standing still for any length of time and had mussed his outfit the minute they left the house, earning a stern look from Walburga and a cuff from Orion. Later he was sure to get a stern scolding from his mother but right now his rumpled clothing matched his cheeky grin. Four adults looking serious in black robes and a house elf managing Bella’s trunk completed the picture.

On the platform were other families with their children. The clusters near them were mostly other pureblood families with children Bellatrix already knew. She could also identify the half bloods for they knew what was going on but she did not recognize them. Mudbloods were identified by their amazement. The wide-eyed looks and pointing could only be termed gawking. Frankly, she was amazed they made it through the barrier. 

There would be no associating with those who were astonished by the proceedings today. No respectable Black talked to any sort of mudblood. Ever. Bellatrix was not going to bring any shame to her family by doing so, not that she wanted to. There was something off about them. She could tell they did not belong in her world. Going off to Hogwarts was a rite of passage, not an opportunity to gawk. Eleven-year-old Bellatrix did not approve.

Luckily, she had no doubt in her mind as to which house she would be going into. All Blacks went into Slytherin. That was where she wanted to go, therefore, that was where she would go. There would be no need to ever speak to any of those students who looked at the Hogwarts Express as if it was strange and unusual. Knowing the pureblood families sending wizards and witches to school this year assured her that no mudblood would be making his way into Slytherin. Hopefully there would not be any half bloods either. It was rather doubtful. The house should be full of purebloods. That’s what Salazar Slytherin would have wanted.

The crimson train whistled once and students prepared to board. Bella hugged her two cousins first, shook hands with her uncle, and gave a little curtsy to her aunt. She could hug the younger children in public because they were children but otherwise she had to act like a proper little lady. Other families could be watching. Next, she enveloped her two younger sisters in a big hug.

“I don’t want you to go,” Narcissa cried, “Stay here.” The nine year old would have continued to protest if it had not been for a strong look from their mother. Narcissa went quiet but tears threatened to fall from her wide eyes.

“You’ll still see me on holidays, Cissy. And I promise to write you lots and lots. You’ll still have Andy and Siri and Reg to play with.”

“Siri and Reggie are _babies_ ,” her youngest sister protested but she seemed a bit happier than she was a moment before. 

“Will you really write us a lot, Bella?” Andromeda piped up. “Please tell us everything. I want to know all about it.”

“As often as possible. You’ll be there soon enough.”

“Will you teach us all your spells?” Andy could not wait to start Hogwarts next year. Ever since Bella had gotten her acceptance almost a year ago Andy couldn’t stop talking about it to her big sister. The girls had talked about how they thought Hogwarts would be like for both of them. 

“Every one.” Then Bella got serious for a moment. “If you remember that you are the big sister while I’m gone and have to look after Cissy.”

Narcissa looked indignant that Bella was telling her sister to watch over her. She was nine! Not a baby! As she pouted she missed the shared understanding of her two older sisters as to what those words actually meant.

“That’s enough,” Cygnus interrupted the sister’s goodbyes. “You need to get on the train.

Bella pulled away from her sisters to turn towards the people she was glad she was leaving. On the surface she looked like any child about to be separated from her parents, slightly apprehensive, but it was an act. Bella was thrilled to be escaping the dominating, overbearing personalities that controlled her life. For her, this was a day of freedom, to start the next seven years in which they could only control her over holidays. She was not going to be constantly under her parent’s thumb at Hogwarts. Most exciting.

Her mother wanted a hug, and Bella obliged. She found it stupid Druella wanted a public display of affection when for the most part she ignored her daughters. They were all big enough to take care of themselves and Druella did not bother except to give them orders or to make sure they were dressed appropriately for some event. But she could hardly refuse her mother in front of all the other families.

Bella gave another curtsy, this time to her father, hoping he was not going to ask for something so ridiculous. He did not, laying a hand on her shoulder with final instructions about ‘behaving herself,’ before pushing her in the direction of the train. The house elf with her trunk followed closely. It would handle her baggage and once that was settled, it could easily use its own magic to return home.

Other children crowded the steps to wave at their parents or stuck their heads out the door but Bellatrix did not. On the chance her parents stuck around to see the train off, they would not appreciate her acting in such a way and would scold Narcissa and Andromeda if they waved. Going to school was a big event, but it did not warrant a public fuss. Let the children of families that were not as dignified as the Blacks do such a thing. 

Instead, Bellatrix hunted for her two best girlfriends, knowing they would be around somewhere. All of them knew where the “Slytherin section” of the train was, having parents that had been in Slytherin, and relatives, whether close or distant, who went to school recently. All the pureblood families were interconnected in some way and they stuck together. None of the upperclassmen were likely to let a young first year end up in the wrong part of the train, where the mudbloods might be. 

It was easy to figure out where the Slytherin car was, they had been standing in front of it. Also, it was the one in which people were not peering out windows staring at the people on the platform. Her friends were also easy to find, right inside the first doorway. Bellatrix gave both Isolde and Bernadette a big hug upon seeing them, and the three set out in search of an empty compartment. They could have sat with some of the older children, their surnames being appropriately prestigious, but they had no desire to listen anyone older. There were things to catch up on, as well as talking and theorizing about the year ahead. 

About halfway down the train car they found an empty compartment and three house elves followed, hoisting the trunks to the racks above their heads before exiting and disappearing back to their respective houses. With plenty of room for three, the girls spread out. Bellatrix sat herself by the window, legs stretched out on the seat in front of her. Isolde sat across from her, also next to the window and Bernadette sat cross-legged by the door, facing inwards towards her friends. They immediately started chatting.

When the snack trolley came by, the three deliberated for a while, each having been given a few galleons to spend. For all, this was the first time they had actually handled money, everywhere they shopped had tabs for their family. The Hogwarts Express was one of the few places that did not use tabs so their fathers had all been forced to give them money for lunch, with instructions that candy would not be suitable. They were to buy sandwiches, or salads, not any of the multitudes of treats the trolley also sold. 

There were a lot of choices when it came to real food. Isolde and Bernadette did not think about disobeying their parents. Sweet treats were not very filling in the long run and it was quite some time before the sorting and subsequent feast. But Bella felt she should take advantage of her new freedom from her parents and tried to persuade her friends to join in. In the end the girls came to a compromise, as they had plenty of money to get both sandwiches and treats. But only after Isolde explained to Bellatrix that if she merely ate candy she was likely to get a stomachache and that would not be a good way to start her Hogwarts career. Bella begrudgingly went along with her friends, barely finishing half a sandwich before starting in on the candy, some of it not being allowed in the Black household. She was not going to waste this opportunity and seeing how much Bella was enjoying the goodies, the other girls quickly put aside their own sensible lunches in favor of Pumpkin Pasties, Licorice Whips and Chocolate Frogs. 

The three were having a very good time laughing and enjoying sweets when there was a knock on the door and in crowded three more children.

“We knew you three had to be around,” stated Lucius Malfoy, sitting down between Isolde and Bernadette. “What was the purpose of reclusion here?”

“You thought we’d come sit with you?” Isolde asked. “Lucius, you aren’t that stimulating.”

Rodolphus Lestrange had commandeered the bench where Bella’s legs had been, having knocked her legs over the side, earning him a punch in the arm. “Yeah, Malfoy, you’re too boring for them. If it had just been me and Rosier…”

Bellatrix interrupted him, “We wouldn’t have sat with _any_ of you. Why would we?”

Bernadette piped in, “Not to mention that six to a car is crowded. We had a lot of room until you lot showed up.” She glared at Evan Rosier, who had taken a seat across from her and tried to put his feet up on the bench she was seated on.

Evan made a face at her but put his feet back on the floor. “We were expecting you to come and join us.”

“Stupid of you,” Bella retorted.

“Come on now, we’re all friends,” Lucius insisted. “We’ve known each other for years. It doesn’t make sense that you would hide out in some compartment. Everyone else in our year stopped by.”

“Sycophants,” Bernadette said haughtily. “Which we are _not_.”

“You had to hunt us down,” added Isolde, causing Bellatrix to giggle.

Rodolphus’ eyes flashed, the idea of him toadying to girls was ridiculous and impossible. 

Lucius sighed, sensing a possible fight, most likely breaking out between Bellatrix and Lestrange who had short fuses. “We thought someone had detained you, but it’s all settled now, as you are clearly fine.”

“Hero complex?” Isolde asked.

Rosier faked a yawn, “This is so interesting I’m falling asleep.”

“You could _leave_ ,” Bernadette pointed out, “and then we’d have some breathing room.”

“Funny,” Evan made a second face at her. Bernadette shrugged, unconcerned. 

“The point we were trying to make is the six of us are the top of the social class in our year,” Lucius continued, trying to stop the arguments again. “One day we will sit at the top of the school, it’s important for us to stick together from day one.”

Everyone rolled his or her eyes, all aware of who they were and where they were in the social class. It had been ingrained into each one of them since they could walk and talk. They had all known before stepping foot on the train that they were the cream of pureblood society. Most of the upperclassmen in Slytherin would not be able to compete with the amount of status that was in this compartment. Bellatrix especially had been made aware of it. She had heard some other children talking about how in first year one had to cater to upperclassmen in Slytherin as there was a hierarchy and she had practically fallen over laughing. That sort of thing was not going to happen to her. No one was going to try to enforce some hierarchy on a _Black_. She was automatically higher than other Slytherins and they knew it. Her friends in this compartment could say much the same thing. Hogwarts would not know what hit them with the best that society had to offer showing up to start Hogwarts at the same time. 

“We’ll all be in Slytherin together of course,” Evan added. “All of our families have been.”

“I might end up in Ravenclaw,” Bernadette corrected him, “The women in my family often go into Ravenclaw.” Her words caused concerned looks on the faces of both Isolde and Bellatrix who were hoping their friend would defy that particular tradition and come to Slytherin with them. All Blacks went into Slytherin so even though her mother had been a Ravenclaw, Bellatrix felt there was no chance of that. Isolde’s mother had gone to Beauxbatons, as had both her grandmothers, so there was not a lot of precedent for her, but she wanted to go to Slytherin with Bella, and her father and uncle had both been Slytherins. All three boys had fathers that went into Slytherin and expected to take after them. 

“I’m not trying to end up in Ravenclaw,” Bernadette tried to console her friends. “Just that it _could_ happen. Theoretically, either of you could end up in Ravenclaw as well.”

“No!” Bella exclaimed. “I won’t go. I’ll be a Slytherin or nothing.” 

“Of course,” Lucius said. “I doubt any of us have anything to worry about. We’ll all be Slytherins.” 

There was another knock on the door and they all turned to look. A prefect with a yellow crest poked his head in, telling them they should get changed because the train would arrive soon. All six of them stared blankly at the boy since they had been wearing robes since before they appeared at King’s Cross. 

“We’re already dressed.” Rodolphus pointed out, before turning back to his friends. “People shouldn’t be made prefects if they can’t make simple observations. Probably a mudblood.” 

“Excuse me?” the insulted Prefect exclaimed, “What house are you in, ten points from all of you.” 

Bellatrix handled this. “We’re first years, therefore we don’t have a house. Plus, term hasn’t started so you don’t have any authority.” 

“We’d appreciate it if you stopped annoying us,” Lucius added, complete with a dismissing wave of his hand. 

The fifth year looked incredulous until one of the older Slytherin prefects came up behind him and told him to leave, that she was taking care of this car and he should worry about other students. It was easy being a Slytherin prefect when it came to this particular duty, very rarely did anyone come on board without robes already on. Most people in the Slytherin cars were from families in which robes were part of daily wear. It was annoying when other prefects came in and tried to instruct the current or future Slytherins and it was bad for the prefects. Any annoyed child could possibly complain to their parents that the prefects were not watching out for them - keeping them away from undesirables. This prefect felt like throwing herself under the wheels of the train when she saw who the Hufflepuff had been harassing. If anyone were going to complain and make a prefects life hell, it would be one of these six. Highly prestigious families. 

“Sorry about that,” the Slytherin prefect apologized. “It can be hard to keep Hufflepuffs in their place.” Six eleven year olds nodded their heads in agreement, and inwardly she breathed a sigh of relief. They did not seem too perturbed. “I’ll see you at the sorting ceremony then.” Quickly, she skedaddled down the hall, back to her own friends, to tell them what had just happened. 

“She looked like she was going to piss herself.” Evan commentated. 

“Because it’s us.” Bellatrix said. 

“I _know_ that!” Evan complained grumpily crossing his arms, “I was just _saying._ ” 

Shortly after that, the train pulled into the Hogsmeade station and all six of them departed the train, leaving their baggage behind. Hogwarts still had house elves to take care of such things; their belongings would be waiting for them when they got to their dormitories after the feast. Some idiots tried to drag their trunks onto the platform, and prefects had to go around putting them back. Not a single person who exited the Slytherin car did and Bellatrix assumed that was because the car had been rightfully segregated. Everyone sitting there was pureblood and therefore knew how to do things. 

“Firs’ years! Firs’ years this way!” A giant burly man yelled over the crowd of students. Bellatrix took an immediate disliking towards him. He looked dirty and gross and it seemed her friends agreed. He was too big, and ugly, and he looked as if he had not bathed in a week. 

“That thing has got to be a half breed,” Lucius whispered. “No way that thing is full human.” 

Isolde nodded, eyes wide. “Who is that? My parents didn’t tell me about anything like that.” 

“Firs’ years!” The thing yelled again. “Follow me! No more’n four to a boat!” 

The future Slytherins of the year were made clear, they hung back, getting into the last boats, as far away from the thing as they possibly could. They also refused to crowd into the boats, sitting no more than three to the small dinghies. 

“I’m Rubeus Hagrid, assistant gameskeeper here a’ Hogwarts Yeh’ll get your first glimpse o’ Hogwarts in a sec, jus’ round the bend. You won’t see much o’ me…” 

“Thank Merlin,” Evan hissed to the other two boys in his boat. 

“…normally go about me business and stay out o’ you lot’s way. You’ll see more o’ Tiberon Og…” 

“Is he going to narrate the entire time?” Bellatrix complained. ‘I can’t understand him. It sounds like grunting.” 

“At least we know he won’t be around all the time,” Bernadette pointed out. 

It was at this point that the boats came into view of Hogwarts for the first time and the six of them were distracted from discussing how awful this assistant gameskeeper was and how he should not be allowed at the castle. This was where they would be living for the next seven years, learning magic only part of their Hogwarts experience. While the old castle was not quite as grand as Black Manor, as the latter was a bit more organized and Hogwarts looked like it sprawled haphazardly in all directions, Bellatrix was pretty sure it was the best sight she had ever seen. 


	15. On the Way to Greatness

The boats pulled up to the castle, disappearing under a curtain of ivy hiding a wide opening in the cliff face. The giant oaf yelled out “Watch yer heads!” only moments before they went under, forcing all three girls to duck wildly to avoid the stuff entangling in their hair. The boats continued down a dark tunnel, appearing to head straight under the castle and finally came to rest at an underground beach of sorts, made up of pebbles and rocks. Having met their destination, the first years departed, heading up the rocky passageway until they were standing in front of the castle. Oaf man led them up a flight of stone steps to a set of huge wooden doors. Pushing one of the doors open, the first years filed in.

A severe looking woman was waiting, her hair pulled back in a tight bun at the bas of her neck and dressed in immaculate emerald green robes with matching black pointed hat. It was obvious she was a professor and from the look of it, a very strict professor. 

“The firs’ years, Professor McGonagall,” the giant man-thing explained to the woman, which Bellatrix thought was a stupid. It was obvious they were all first years; none of them had insignia on their robes yet. If they were not first years, they would be inside the great hall already.

“Thank you Hagrid, I’ll take them from here,” the woman replied and headed towards another set of doors. Bella assumed they would be taken into the great hall. Instead, the woman showed them into a small chamber off the hallway. The six friends could hear the chatter of other students in the room next door. They were forced to stand much closer together than any of them would have liked and all of them hoped this was a very temporary situation. 

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” stated the woman. “In a moment the start of term feast will begin. However, before you take your seats, you need to be sorted. Sorting is a very important ceremony. For the seven years you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts.”

“Some of us are already family,” Rosier hissed under his breath, poking Bellatrix, who smacked him in return.

Professor McGonagall raised her eyebrows and pursed her lips at the interruption before continuing, “With your house, you will have classes, share dormitories and free time will most likely be spent in the house common room. The houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw and Slytherin.”

“Only one of them truly worth being in,” Bella whispered to her friends.

“Ravenclaw isn’t bad,” Bernadette whispered back, causing Bella to wrinkle her nose, even though she mostly agreed. Ravenclaw was not _bad_ , it just wasn’t where she wanted to go. But better Ravenclaw than Hufflepuff or Gryffindor.

“We’re all going to Slytherin. We don’t have to think about the other houses.” Lestrange had come up behind them and spoke in an almost whisper near Bellatrix’s ear, causing her to let out a little shriek of surprise. 

“Quiet, please!” McGonagall shushed them. “Each house has a noble history, each having produced outstanding witches and wizards. During your time at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn house points, while rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year the house cup is awarded to the house with the most points. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house you are sorted into.”

“Except Hufflepuffs who aren’t a credit to anyone,” Lucius whispered to Isolde, who nodded in agreement while continuing to listen to McGonagall.

“The Sorting ceremony will take place in a few moments in front of the entire school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up to look your best while I check and see if they are ready for you.” With that, the woman disappeared through another set of doors and the first years started to twitter about what the sorting ceremony would entail.

“It’s too bad it isn’t actually proving magical ability,” Rodolphus mentioned, listening to some of the people around him. “Clearly some people here would fail.”

“I don’t want too many mudbloods in our class,” Bellatrix agreed. “I’m hoping Slytherin only gets purebloods, even if they aren’t _our type_. I don’t want to share space with someone raised by _muggles_.”

The others agreed with that sentiment. They felt confident that no such person would be allowed into Slytherin, as Slytherin did not even want halfbloods, thankfully. Someone would have to be the exact definition of the house qualities before the hat put a non pureblood into Slytherin. 

“Do you think there are a lot of mudbloods here?” Isolde asked her friends. “Father said there have been more and more in recent years but there are so many of us this year.”

“There were some on the station,” Bellatrix announced. “I could tell. They look amazed they walked through a wall.”

Lucius rolled his eyes. “It’s a pity they made it through.”

A couple of the boys near them were starting to give them looks and earned death glares. Anyone who was going to give them that sort of look, the disapproving look of someone who believed the word mudblood was out of fashion, deserved to be crushed under their heels. People like that, muggle sympathizers, were not looked upon favorably. They could not understand why someone would want to look out for muggles or be willing to open their schools to those of muggle heritage considering the long history of animosity of muggles towards wizards. Sadly, many in the wizarding world had taken a turn in that direction, giving up valued heritage in favor of people who were so astonished by the magical world it was surprising they could figure out how to hold their wands. 

McGonagall had returned, clapping her hands together to gain their attention. “Form a line and follow me.” Without waiting for the first years to follow directions, she turned and led them through the doors she had disappeared through earlier. 

Bellatrix had heard tales of the Great Hall, how the ceiling was enchanted to look like the sky above and the hundreds of candles that lit it. The stories did not seem to have accurately described what it was really like. It was… beautiful, and perfect. Something like this needed to be saved for generations and generations. Of the right people. There were some people who did not deserve to be here or see it. 

As they walked towards the front of the room she peeked over at the Slytherin table, noticing the space left at the end for the first year students. She could see the hierarchy at the table, based on family name and status. According to that arrangement she would _not_ be sitting at the very end of the table. People were going to have to scoot over and give her a better seat. Trying to decide where her and her companions would sit distracted here and she ran straight into Rodolphus.

“Watch it Black,” he growled. 

“Stay out of where I’m walking,” she retorted.

He would have continued the argument had the hat McGonagall placed on the stool in front not started talking. No, singing would be the more correct word.

  
_Welcome students to this place_  
Of hallowed halls and learned space  
For seven years you shall endeavor  
Learn and grow…  


Bellatrix was not interested in hearing the hat go on. All she wanted was to get sorted. She already knew about the houses, she did not need a hat to tell her. Everyone else seemed enthralled with what the hat was saying but it only rhymed, and it was not hard to get an inanimate object to say a few words. One time for a Christmas party, her mother had charmed a few decorations near the front door to recite a Christmas greeting. The sorting hat was different, she knew that, but it did not make it any more interesting. Not really. Better to figure out where she wanted to sit over at the Slytherin table, who was going to be the easiest to make move over for her. There was a Bulstrode girl, probably in her fifth or sixth year, she should be relatively easy to pressure. Or the Pucey boy.

Isolde gave her a sharp poke in the side, “Are you paying attention?”

“No.”

“It’s about to talk about Slytherin.”

Bella nodded at her friend and resumed listening to the hat. It was worth listening to the hat speak about the house she was going to be sorted into. Plus since the hat went by alphabetical order, it meant the song was almost over and the sorting could begin.

__  
And now we’ve come to Slytherin  
To which the ambitious find their kin  
Cunning and shrewd assemblage  
From families of longest lineage 

_Now you know the houses four_  
For your place you are unsure  
Stick me on your head, we’ll have a chat  
I’ll find your place and that is that. 

The hall burst into applause and Bella half-heartedly put her hands together. Professor McGonagall now stepped forward, carrying a long roll of parchment.

“When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted.”

“Poke me again when they get to B,” Bella asked her friends. “I don’t want to listen.”

Isolde rolled her eyes but she nodded. Bella went back to paying attention to the Slytherin house, when her friend gave her another sharp poke in the shoulder. “Ouch!” she hissed. “You didn’t need to poke so hard.”

“I think you’re next,” Bernadette whispered back.

Sure enough, the next name out of the stern looking witches mouth was, “Black, Bellatrix.”

Quickly, Bella made her way to the front, unconcerned with the couple of fellow first years who did not move fast enough, pushing them aside to get to the front. She grasped the hat with both hats, hopped up on the stool and placed it over her head, fully expecting the experience to be a short one. Slytherin was where she belonged. There was no other place for her.

“Another Black,” a voice in her head spoke, and Bella assumed it was the voice of the hat. “I must be getting another generation.”

“Yes,” she thought back at it. “Another group of Slytherins.”

“Not so fast missy. I’m examining you. There are a lot of interesting qualities here.”

“I’m a Slytherin.”

“You are fiercely loyal. Anyone who is your friend or family you’ll protect to the death.”

“So?”

“Maybe you are a Hufflepuff.”

“I’m _not._ ”

“Maybe not. I see a lot of talent and brains in here. You’re a smart young thing. If I remember correctly, your mother was a Ravenclaw, maybe you should follow in her footsteps.”

Was the hat stupid? she thought. She wanted to be a Slytherin.

“No need for name calling.”

“You are trying to put me in the wrong house.”

“Maybe you aren’t right for Slytherin.” The hat continued, much to Bellatrix’s annoyance. “Ambitious and cunning yes, but you would fit into another house, I don’t have to put you in Slytherin.”

Outside of the internal argument at the front of the room, Bellatrix’s friends were wondering what was taking so long. 

“I bet it wants to put her in Ravenclaw,” Evan suggested. “That would be funny. Bella would be so mad.”

“I doubt it. Unless it’s kidding around with her,” Bernadette said.

“Anyone can see she’s a Slytherin.” Isolde reprimanded him.

“She’s probably telling it she’ll throw it on the ground and stomp on it,” Rodolphus laughed. “ _That_ would be funny. She should do it.”

“This is not a decision”, Bella insisted. When the hat tried to interrupt she continued, ignoring its explanation that it had to take everything into consideration. “No, I _am_ a Slytherin and that’s where I’m going to go. In fact, if you don’t put me in Slytherin, I’m going to jump off this stool, hex you, and don’t think I can’t. Then I’m going to go and jump in the lake. I want to be a Slytherin and I will be a Slytherin!”

“Fine, fine, fine,” the hat groused, yelling out “SLYTHERIN!”

The table under the green banners burst into applause.

“Finally!” she thought, flashing a smile at her friends as she took off the hat. As she placed it back on the stool, she stuck her tongue out at it before happily heading to the Slytherin table, by-passing the seats at the end for one closer to the middle. When one of the older students told her she couldn’t sit there, Bella stood to her full height, little though it might be, telling the boy she was a Black and she would sit wherever she liked. He’d better move down or find his family banned from all the social events of the season. He moved and she sat where she wanted, warning the people on either side of her they better move down because she had friends who would be coming to sit with her. 

Bellatrix wanted the prime seats now and if she had to blackmail people to go about it, that would not be a problem. She had every intention of using her family’s status to get what she wanted. She knew her friends would do the same thing. There was no reason to work their way up the hierarchy when the world already stated they were at the top. Situated at the table, she turned her attention back to the sorting.

“Diggory, Amos” McGonagall called out. A tallish boy with sandy hair stepped forward, putting the hat on his head. After deliberating, the hat called out, “HUFFLEPUFF!” and the yellow table burst into cheers.

Bellatrix wrinkled her nose. Hufflepuffs were a waste of space. She couldn’t believe the hat even _suggested_ putting her in the “leftovers” house. Slytherins were ambitious, Ravenclaws smart, Gryffindors brave and Hufflepuffs were honest and loyal? Helga Hufflepuff sure knew how to leave a legacy. Clearly, Salazar Slytherin had the best idea when it came to houses but the other ones were not so bad, minus the fact that Gryffindors had recently become the house of the blood traitors. Hufflepuffs weren’t any better than house elves. If house elves were allowed a wand, they would all end up in Hufflepuff. Hopefully any mudbloods would go there, regulate them as failures right off the bat so everyone could see, even those stupid muggle loving freaks.

“Harkness, Natalie.” 

“GRYFFINDOR!”

Probably a half blood, Bella did not recognize the name. The next of her friends was an L and that seemed a long ways off. She was starting to get hungry, lunch had been a long time ago and she had mostly eaten sweets. A nice meal would be welcome. Hopefully they could hurry things along. Since none of her friends were close to being sorted, she looked around the room, everyone else seemed to be focused solely on the sorting process. It seemed a little strange to her. Sure it was exciting when another person joined your house, but in general she did not find the experience all that fascinating now that she had been sorted. 

“Lestrange, Rodolphus.”

The hat did not seem to pull anything with him, because Rodolphus placed the hat on his head and a moment later the hat yelled, “SLYTHERIN!” He came to join her at the table, the older students beside her begrudgingly making room. 

“What took you so long?” he asked her. “The hat deliberated for a long time.”

“Nothing,” Bellatrix sneered. “It just found me a stimulating conversationalist. Which you clearly weren’t!”

He made a face at her and she turned back towards the front huffily, Bernadette should be sorted soon.

“Macnair, Bernadette.”

Under the table Bellatrix crossed her fingers for Bernadette to come and join her. The three girls had been thick as thieves since they were all very young children and they had planned their seven years at Hogwarts.

“RAVENCLAW!”

Bernadette hopped off the stool and gave a sad little smile over towards her friends before heading over to the clapping blue colored table. Bellatrix’s mouth fell open, and she half stood, Rodolphus grabbed the back of her robes, pulling her back down.

“Stop it!”

“What were you going to do?”

“She’s supposed to be here.”

“The hat placed her there. She said that women in her family went to Ravenclaw. There isn’t anything you can do.”

“I could drag her here.”

“Wouldn’t do anything. She’ll still have classes with us.”

Bellatrix was busy glaring daggers at him when Malfoy came up on the other side of the table, sitting down across from Rodolphus. “What’s going on with you two?”

“I hate him!”

“Nothing new then. Did you see how fast the hat sorted me? I didn’t even need to put it on my head. It just yelled Slytherin!”

“Bully for you,” Bella said, believing Malfoy to be exaggerating. She turned her back on the boys in time to hear Dorcas Meadowes be sorted into Hufflepuff, followed shortly by her sister Hectate into Ravenclaw. She knew the Meadowes family, nowhere near as prestigious as her own but they were purebloods. At least she knew another pureblood was going to be with Bernadette. She bet the Meadowes would be angry that one of their own ended up in Hufflepuff. That would not be good for her position in society.

“Nott, Isolde.”

The hat hemmed and hawed over Isolde longer than it had the boys and Bellatrix realized she’d been holding her breathe when the hat eventually called out, “SLYTHERIN!”

The older students were not happy to have another first year attempt to sit in the middle of their table. Enough was enough. There were already three. No one moved when Isolde came to sit next to Bellatrix.

“I’m a _Nott_ ,” Isolde said haughtily. “And I will be sitting next to my best friend. Don’t make me write my father.”

The pair happily reunited at the table, giving each other a big hug, smug that the older students had to move for them.

“Too bad about Bernadette,” Isolde sighed. Bella pouted in response. When the girls had planned out their Hogwarts experience, they had planned on being in the same dorm, beds all right next to each other. Now there would be a girl in their dorm they might not want, and who would end up in the same dorm as Bernadette?

“Rayne, Araceli.”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Is she…” Bellatrix started.

“Pureblood,” Isolde finished. “Not a big name family. Keeps to themselves.”

Bella wrinkled her nose. It was good another pureblood was ending up in Bernadette’s house, and hopefully dorm, but Araceli Rayne was not as suitable as her and Isolde.

“Rosier, Evan.”

“SLYTHERIN!” To no one’s surprise. He came and joined the four at the Slytherin table, setting himself next to Lucius. Another one of the older students tried to put up some protest. Most of the first years had gone to sit at the end of the table, so Bellatrix could not figure out why anyone was still putting up such a fuss. They should be pleased to be sitting so near the five of them.

She was hoping there were only a few names left on the parchment because she was ready for the feast. “Scamander, Aiden,” became a Ravenclaw and some Strout became a Gryffindor. She was hungry. Even Isolde who paid better attention to things than she did was starting to pay more attention to the table than the sorting. Bella tried to catch Bernadette’s eye over at the Ravenclaw table, but no such luck, the girl was out of sight behind some other students. Plus all the Hufflepuffs were in the way. Stupid Hufflepuffs.

“Vance, Damien.” “RAVENCLAW!”

She could not remember if that was a pureblood name or not.

“Weasley, Darcy.” “GRYFFINDOR!”

Pureblood. Blood traitor. No wonder he went to Gryffindor.

Finally, Elmira Zabini was called and sorted into Slytherin. Out of the corner of her eye she saw McGonagall putting away the sorting hat and stool and then the man in the center of the table stood up.

“Welcome to Hogwarts. I’m sure you are all far too hungry for a speech. Tuck in!”

Happy that the headmaster, for Bellatrix was sure that was Dumbledore, had given a short talk she turned back towards the table, now covered in food. House elves in the kitchen, very good. Filling her plate with various bites of food, she followed Dumbledore’s suggestion. When they were finished with the main course, all sorts of treats appeared and she had a hard time making a decision, finally settling on a bit of treacle tart and a jam doughnut. Nothing compared to what the boys ate, which seemed to be a bit of everything, somehow finishing it all.

Now content and full, Bellatrix was pleased when the prefects stood up and called for the first years to follow them. It was time to head off to what would be her home for the next seven years. 

They ran into Bernadette right outside the great hall, and hugs were exchanged before the girls had to go their separate ways. Bernadette had to follow her own prefect and Ravenclaw was in the complete opposite direction of Slytherin, up instead of down. They promised to sit together at breakfast and in every class they could, before Bernadette headed towards the stairs and Isolde and Bellatrix down into the dungeons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> McGonagall's speech, is re-phrased Rowlings words. Something said year after year should start sounding similar.


	16. Only One For Birthday Presents

Andromeda had been jealous when Bellatrix had gotten her Hogwarts letter. The two girls were close in age and normally whatever Bellatrix got, Andromeda got. She knew eventually she would get a letter and wand but a year was a long time to wait. It had been a long thirteen months watching Bella play and experiment. She had been fascinated the whole time, watching Bellatrix attempt basic spells and get better at them over the months, until her older sister went to Hogwarts, but the tinge of jealousy could not be ignored. She wanted her letter and her wand. Waiting was awful and she did not want to do it. It was not fair; she had already done magic! It was clear she was a witch, why couldn’t she get her letter when Bella got her letter!

It had been made especially hard when Bellatrix had picked up on the jealousy, recognizing her sister wanted a wand of her own. Bella loved to tease and she had done a lot of her practicing purposely in front of Andy, making it torturous for the younger girl. Watching her sister do magic while she still had to wait was awful and she blamed whoever was in charge of sending the letter for depriving her. Automatic and lifelong hatred from the middle Black sister.

Today, her letter had arrived. Which meant in a little while they would be heading out to Diagon Alley to get her wand and materials. Father had someone come over this morning for something, meaning they had to wait until he was done. While Cgynus Black never normally seemed interested in her, he wanted to be there when she picked out her wand. It was strange, but she could hardly refuse her father. It was a little nice he was taking some interest. However, it meant they would not leave until he decided it was time.

Not for the first time, she happily reread her letter.
    
    
    Hogwarts School _of_  Witchcraft _and_  Wizardry
    Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
    ( _Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwamp, International Confed. of Wizards_ )
    
    Dear Miss Black,
    
    	We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
    	Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31.
    
    Yours Sincerely,
    Horace Slughorn
    _Head of Slytherin House_

Like her sister, the head of Slytherin house had made a little note in the corner mentioning how happy he was that she would be joining her sister next year. It made her feel welcome already. She knew her parents appreciated that Slughorn, Head of Slytherin and the Potions master at Hogwarts (this she knew from her letters with Bellatrix) was writing to their daughters instead of the person who normally sent the letters. Bella had told her that Slughorn had invited her to his office and he had talked about how he was so happy to see another set of Blacks and how he had requested of Professor McGonagall (the person responsible for making her wait, consequently hated) that he be allowed to write them. Apparently Professor McGonagall was the head of Gryffindor house and Bella seemed to think the woman was close with Dumbledore. No wonder the family preferred Mr. Slughorn. 

She moved on to the equipment list, looking at what she was going to go and buy today.
    
    
    Hogwarts School _of_  Witchcraft _and_  Wizardry
    
    UNIFORM
    First-year students will require:
    	1. Three sets of plain work robes (black)
    	2. One plain pointed hat (black) for day wear
    	3. One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or similar)
    	4. One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings)
    Please note that all pupil’ clothes should carry name tags
    

Except for the winter cloak, she would be getting everything today. She did not want a new winter cloak, considering her current one was only a couple of months old. A new one would be purchased before she started next year, in the latest fashion. These would be clothes that would be stored away for the beginning of Hogwarts, specifically and only for Hogwarts. She had plenty of robes, but these were going to be for uniform purposes only. She liked that. Clothing for specific purposes.
    
    
    COURSE BOOKS
    All students should have a copy of each of the following
    _The Standard Book of Spells (Grade 1)_ by Miranda Goshawk
    _A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot
    _Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling
    _A Beginners’ Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch
    _One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore
    _Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenius Jigger
    _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander
    _The Dark Forces: Volume One, Beginnings of Protection_ by Dedalus Crockford
    

She was pretty sure it was the same list Bella had gotten the year before. Bella had saved her letter so Andy could try to hunt it down in Bella’s room, but that would be difficult. Bella’s level of organization was not what her own was and Andy knew the house elves were not allowed to rearrange Bellatrix’s room to suit Andromeda. She supposed her older sister must have some method, but it was not one she understood. It would be difficult to find the letter. It looked like the books they had hunted down last year though. Right now her sister was learning out of these books, and next year it would be her own turn. She wondered which of the books would be for her very first ever Hogwarts class. It was fun thinking of things like that.
    
    
    OTHER EQUIPMENT
    1 wand
    1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)
    1 set of glass or crystal phials
    1 telescope
    1 set brass scales
    Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad
    
    PARENTS ARE REMINDED THAT FIRST YEARS ARE NOT ALLOWED THEIR OWN BROOMSTICKS.

Mother and Cissy would be sent to buy most of the things while she went and got her wand, at least that was how it was when Bella had gone shopping for Hogwarts. Bella and father had disappeared and come back with Bella’s wand. Father left at that point, the only bit of shopping he was interested in was the wand getting. They had all gone to get Bella her robes and then gone out to eat but most of the equipment had been gotten by their mother and them. Two house elves had carried it, and if she remembered correctly, which she did because she considered herself to have a very good memory, they had to go and come back at least once. 

Andy kept glancing at the clock, wondering when they were going to get going. She’d already reread her letter several times, practically had it memorized by now. But what else could she do? Her room was already immaculate, as it always was. House elves were very good housekeepers. Sometimes she would beat them to picking up something or other, but there was not anything to do at the moment. It was perfectly neat and clean. 

OH! She could write a letter to Bella, who could not be here. Her older sister would not be home for another couple of weeks, Hogwarts winter break not coming until mid December. She had been hoping maybe Bellatrix would be able to come home for her birthday but after writing to her sister, she had been informed that Bella could not miss classes. Andy was not thrilled with that response, but there was nothing she could do. Bella had not come home for her own birthday, all their presents had to be sent to Hogwarts. It was strange, not all being together on birthdays now. 

The only way for her to share this event with Bella would be to write a letter. Telling her about it at Christmastime would not be the same thing. Especially because Bella would have more interesting stories coming from Hogwarts and both Andy and Cissy wanted to hear all about Hogwarts. Bella’s letters were not detailed enough by far. Andy wanted all the details about the castle, the dorms, the professors, the classes, but Bella’s letters tended to be short and simple. Not enough information for her younger sisters who got very excited when Bella did write. They both wrote to her often. The best way for Bellatrix to hear all about today would be for Andromeda to tell her; she could start right now and finish it later after they had gotten back from Diagon Alley. Bella would want to hear all about her wand for sure.  
 __
    
    
      _Dear Bella,
    
    I got my Hogwarts letter today! Of course I knew it would come because it’s my eleventh birthday, but it’s still very exciting. Thank you for the card, it’s very pretty. Father is meeting with someone right now but as soon as he is done with that we’ll all going to Diagon Alley for my supplies and for my wand. I wish you could be here to get my wand with me but I know you have classes. Next year we’ll be able to celebrate our birthdays together. I’ll tell you all about my wand when I get back from Diagon Alley. And then I’m going to start practicing magic._
    

There was not much else to say until she got her wand so Andy left it there and was happy to hear running footsteps up the stairs. Narcissa had been sitting on the landing keeping watch over the hallway so if that was her running up the stairs, and Andy was pretty sure it was, then Father was done with his meeting and they would be going wand shopping! Sure enough, within a few moments there was a knock followed by Narcissa’s voice lilting through the wooden door. “Andy? Father’s guest left! Are you ready?”

Andy hurried over to her door, opening it to find Narcissa, immaculately put together from hair bow to shoes. Her sister was clearly ready to go out in public. Andy was wearing very nice clean clothes pressed by the elves, one of her favorite dresses actually, her hair was brushed and her face was washed but next to her little sister who looked like a life-sized porcelain doll, she felt a little messy. Somehow Narcissa always looked just a bit more put together. Andromeda used to chalk it up to their mother dressing the little girl but now Narcissa dressed herself. Of course, the girl had floated gold flowers around her room for her first magic, so maybe it was to be expected. 

“Girls?” they heard Druella call from the bottom of the stairs. “Your father is ready. Come downstairs.”

“Coming Mother,” they chorused. Andy grabbed her cloak off a nearby chair while Narcissa popped into the room across the hall, grabbing her own. Both girls’ winter cloaks were lined with fur to keep them warm. It would be good today since it was raining, but neither of them were worried about getting wet. Both had dragon hide boots that would keep their feet dry and the house elves would be required to keep an umbrella levitated over their head at all times. The girls put on their cloaks as they hurried down the stairs, Andromeda in the lead. Druella was waiting at the bottom.

“Your father will be along in a moment,” she instructed before heading into the other room where the Floo fireplace was, the girls following close behind.

Like when they had gone for Bellatrix’s wand, both adults, the girls and a couple of house elves headed to Diagon Alley. Again, Cygnus sent Druella, Narcissa, and the elves off to buy the basic supplies. Andromeda did not need to be there to pick out her books and cauldron and such things. She did not even really need to be there for the robes as both the robe outfitters in the Alley had her measurements in case Druella needed a dress or robes for one of the girls and could not bring them in. Plenty of clothes for all three of the sisters had been made in such a way over the years. 

Andy waved good bye to Narcissa and headed off with her father towards Ollivanders. It was not long before the pair was standing before the wand shop, Andromeda practically bursting with excitement. A little bell on the door tinkled as they entered into the shop. It was such a happy noise, it spoke to the magic in the place and gave Andromeda butterflies over what was about to occur. The shopkeeper hurried in from the back room hearing the bell.

“Mr. Black, back already?” the elderly man chuckled. “It must be Miss Andromeda’s birthday. Here for your wand?”

“Yes sir,” Andy answered.

“A very happy birthday indeed. Now if you’ll just hold out your wand arm we can get started.”

Andromeda held out her right arm, which Ollivander got right to measuring - shoulder to finger, wrist to elbow. Then he let the tape measure continue on its own, taking the preliminary measurements and scurrying off to grab a few boxes. He returned with several boxes full of wands, a few of which he discarded as he noted her shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and head circumference measurements. The rest he set on the counter, obviously choices for Andy to try. She watched intently as he unwrapped the first wand, taking it out of the box and polishing it a little before handing it over to her. 

“First we have a mahogany wand, eleven inches with dragon heartstring.”

Andromeda took the offered piece of wood, unsure of what she was supposed to do with it, settling for holding it up a bit awkwardly.

“No, not that one.” Ollivander took it away, switching it out for another one, “Try this. Reed, eleven inches, unicorn hair.”

Andromeda again held the wand up and gave it a tentative little swish. 

Nothing happened. 

“No?” Ollivander looked puzzled for a moment and then relieved her of that wand as well. He weighed two options in his hand, mumbling something that sounded like “Unicorn hair, dragon heartstring…” Finally, the man made a decision and handed her a wand. “Eleven and a quarter inches, hazel with dragon’s heartstring.”

Andromeda took it and it felt like warmth spread up her arm and down into her fingertips. She wanted to wave this one around, no _needed_ to, and when she did, little silver sparks flew out the end. “Oh!” she exclaimed, eyes going wide. Ollivander smiled, pleased he found her wand in a short amount of time, unlike her older sister who had been far more difficult. 

“I assume you will need duplicate wands made?” he inquired of Cygnus, who nodded, watching his daughter with her wand. Unlike Bellatrix she was not levitating all the boxes in the store. Andromeda kept waving it and watching the sparks, far more appropriate in her father’s eyes. Truthfully, the experience was so phenomenal she could not remember any of the spells Bellatrix had told her to try, even though she had a good memory. She was doing magic with a wand! It was wonderful.

“What kind of wand is this one?” Cygnus asked the shopkeeper, remembering how Bellatrix’s wand had been much more like a man’s wand. This one did not appear to be like that, or sound like that, but wand making was not what he did. 

“Hazel, eleven…”  
“No,” Cygnus interrupted. “What sensibilities.” He did not phrase it as a question, although it was.

“It’s a feminine wand, sensible and elastic.”

Cygnus seemed pleased with this, those sounded like more than acceptable things for a girl’s wand to be geared for. Not masculine, no mannish qualities. All things that a girl should be. As the duplicate wands would be delivered to their house at a later date, there was no reason for the Blacks to stay in the store. He headed for the door.

Quickly, Ollivander asked Andromeda if she wanted him to wrap up her wand. After a moment’s thought she decided to hold on to it, she wanted to show Narcissa and describe it to Bellatrix and if she did not take it with her it might not be delivered until the end of the week and she wanted to finish her letter to Bella tonight. 

She had to hurry to catch up with her father, who had gotten two stores ahead of her while she talked to Ollivander. If Cygnus had an elf with her he would have left it up to the elf to get his daughter back to Druella. His part of the afternoon was over and now that she had a wand, he did not wish to stick around. He was not going to let her wander around in the street by herself, after all she was worth money, eventually he would marry her off to some family and make a strong political connection. Therefore, he was not going to let her be alone, even if he did not want to waste his very valuable time escorting a child around. Especially not the boring middle one. At least she was pretty-ish. Not as dark as her older sister, a good thing, sometimes that one looked dangerous, hopefully she would grow into something more malleable. Andromeda was not as perfect as her younger sister, but she was not plain. As soon as he saw his wife, he pushed Andromeda in her direction and apparated back home to his business.

Andy enjoyed the rest of the afternoon, getting fitted for her robes and gathering all her potions supplies at the apothecary. That store was fascinating, all the different ingredients to stare at, most of which she could not think of uses for ever. But next year at this time she might be using them in potions class. That was a little unlikely since the really strange ingredients would probably not be allowed anywhere near a first year, but it was a fun daydream. Narcissa loved hearing about her wand and so when they returned home, Andy ran straight up the stairs in order to finish her letter to her other sister, who should also love hearing about it.
    
    
      _I got my wand, Bella, and I love it so much. It’s hazel wood, eleven and a quarter inches with a dragon heartstring. We have the same wand cores! I heard Ollivander telling Father about it and he described it as sensible and elastic. Having a wand is the best thing ever! Narcissa and I played with it at lunch and I’m going to try more of the spells you told me to try on the house elves this evening before dinner. Write back and tell me what you are learning in your classes. I can practice the spells now! Which book should I start reading first? What has the best spells to practice? Write back soon.
    
    Love,
    Andy_
    


	17. The Character of the Next Generation

It was Orion and Walburga’s turn to host the Christmas celebration and the entire Black family had gathered at 12 Grimmauld Place a few days ago. Alphard Black sat on one of the couches, observing the yearly experience and time-honored tradition of discussing the tapestry at the children. The children were brought forth, taught about the purity of the family, their duty to uphold the family name and family values, going through the lineage as far back as the tapestry went, although it was well acknowledged Blacks were around before someone thought to embroider. It was of high importance to the family, the conservative traditionalist beliefs being the cornerstone of what it meant to be a Black. This was the first year all five children stood before the tapestry, Regulus having turned four less than six months ago, the age when they were expected to repeat information back.

Alphard carefully watched the five of them, the pride of the House of Black, reciting back everything Walburga said.

Bellatrix, the tallest and oldest, was back from her first term at Hogwarts, home for her winter holidays. Already beautiful, dark curly hair braided down her back, grey eyes full of fire and passion, she had taken this matter seriously ever since her first time in front of the tapestry, eight years ago. She had been bleary eyed then, a little girl dragged out of bed before breakfast, surprised and looking completely baffled at being in her mother’s arms. Repeatedly, she was asked to repeat back, the difficult family names tripping her childish tongue up. Alphard had been surprised at what the four year old could parrot back. However, it was not good enough for Walburga, easily forgetting how difficult it was to remember and recite at four, cuffing the little girls’ ears; her mother instructing her to pay closer attention. He had watched as the child wrinkled her brow and bit her lip, determined to do better. 

But she did not earn herself any smiles. Not a single word of praise throughout the entire exchange. It was not surprising; this was what was expected of a Black, the understanding of these beliefs, the honor of the family on the line. It did not matter if she was four or sixty-four, no praise for something she should innately know because of her genes.

Walburga had gone on to instruct the girl in her responsibilities as the eldest Black of the generation. “Because you are the oldest, it will be your responsibility to make sure your sisters follow the rules. When you have cousins they will also fall under that responsibility. You have to uphold the family honor.”

He could not see how a four year old would be able to comprehend such a thing, let alone agree to it, but the girl nodded solemnly and that was the end of the conversation. The women left the room to supervise house elf preparations for the day, leaving the child in front of the tapestry, staring up at it curiously, not even tall enough to stand eye level with her own name. Alphard, feeling strongly that such a young child should be rewarded for performing so admirably, crossed over to the girl, kneeling beside her to offer her a chocolate. 

“You did very well Bella,” he told her, giving her a big hug. The Black children did not get a lot of affection, if they got any. For members of the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black, either one was acting in a way that was expected, or one was doing something wrong. There was no reason to praise someone who was doing what they were supposed, only to punish if they were in the wrong, but Alphard felt that young children needed praise and affection. Other families did, in cultures all across the world, so he believed his nieces and nephews should not be starved for hugs. The children flocked to him for this, and the gifts he always had. Chocolates, little toys, stories from around the globe. 

“You should eat the chocolate now, before breakfast,” he instructed her. “Then you won’t have to share.” 

She had beamed at him, a huge adorable smile as she quickly unwrapped the chocolate and stuffed it into her mouth. “Shall we go find your sisters for breakfast then?” he asked and she nodded, her mouth happily full of chocolate.

Bellatrix was the one he worried about, feeling she had been given too much responsibility at an early age, and that she not only took it to heart, but actively tried to live up to it, passionately believing in her duty. He had seen her accept it at four, probably happy to be given such a big girl job. And it was not just her sisters she was supposed to be in charge of, but also her cousins, who did not reside with her family.

Andromeda had not been given such a task when she was brought out with Bellatrix the following year. She had not even been told to look after Narcissa. Other than that it had been much the same experience, watching her hear about the family lineage for the first time, snug in her mother’s arms while Bellatrix had been regulated to standing next to Druella. Both girls were expected to repeat it, and unsurprisingly, both got their ears cuffed due to not being perfect enough. Alphard wished he could remember his first time and if his ears had been boxed for each mistake. They probably had, his father not being one to spare the rod. Again, after the other adults had left, he had gone over with chocolate. He rewarded them year after year for remembering the words, not because he was especially proud of them for reciting, but because he wanted them to know that they were a credit to the family. Children needed some reward and it quickly became their own tradition.

Interestingly enough, when Narcissa had first stood before the tapestry with her two older sisters, all three girls had avoided the attack on their ears, the recitation completely acceptable. Alphard noticed that Bellatrix always went first, slowly, enunciating the best she could, to give her sisters another chance to remember the specific words and pronunciations. She was living up to her duty.

In a few years, when Sirius was added to the group, he noticed that the boy kept staring down at Bellatrix, who mouthed the proper words back. He was the only one of the family that noticed, it seemed. They were too pleased that Sirius was intuitive, how he already knew the Black family values and understood his family so well, when in actuality it was Bellatrix making sure her cousin knew the right words so he would not be hit as she had. 

Sadly, this had earned Sirius praise; to Walburga, the boy being her pride and joy, it seemed almost word for word perfect. It was clear to Alphard that Bellatrix had explained it to him beforehand, and she had fed him every word, as the four year old had not paid much, if any, attention to his mother. But no one else had seen or they did not care, and therefore the young boy was praised for being exceptional, and the girl reminded of her early failure. 

Alphard knew they doted on the boy because he was the heir, but Bellatrix showed signs of being a powerful and very intelligent witch, a huge credit to the family. How many young children went about teaching their sisters and cousins in order to prevent the blows that they got as a child? It was really exceptional behavior. Once again, even after the insults after Sirius’ performance, she had taught Regulus. Bellatrix could probably recite the damned thing in French and Latin she knew it so well, but it was the two boys who were praised for being so smart. She had taught them and protected them, because she believed it to be her duty. 

He had tried to talk to Orion and Cygnus about the responsibility heaped onto Bellatrix, early on. But the conversation had been futile.

“Don’t you think that looking after all her sisters and cousins is a bit much for someone Bellatrix’s age?” he queried. 

“Walburga watched over us.” replied Orion. “And all of us turned out fine.”

“She had Lucretia.” Bellatrix might have had sisters but they were both younger, as opposed to the same age, shared responsibility of the women from the previous generation.

Cygnus shrugged, nonplussed over the whole matter. He could care less if she had responsibility or not. Either way would not solve his problems with the girl. “She’s a girl. Might as well practice.”

Orion chuckled a bit. “You’ve seen the fire in Bellatrix, Alphard. Surely that girl can watch over a few children. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again Cygnus, it’s a shame she wasn’t born a boy.”

Alphard had seen the annoyance in Cygnus’ eyes and correctly assumed the man was not appreciative of his daughter’s passion. The two continued to joke about the matter, at the girl’s expense, and so Alphard had excused himself. He hoped that Bellatrix was unaware her father wished she was a boy, but figured it unlikely. If Cygnus had not told Bellatrix outright, she probably picked up on his dislike. Her father would not be so sensitive to her feelings to hide it.

Alphard was a proud member of the House of Black, even if his private views disagreed with the standard. He had not settled down to have children; he preferred to travel, spending his inheritance. Sometimes he even visited muggle tourist spots, because they were interesting. He believed himself to be superior to muggles and mudbloods but that did not mean they had not given something interesting to the world, in stark contrast to the family belief. Of course, it was also possible that wizards and witches assisted in the formation of these interesting things. How else would the Leaning Tower of Pisa actually lean? There had to be magic involved.

He knew better than to publicly share these views with his brother and sister or their spouses, as he knew it was better to avoid discussing Bellatrix’s responsibilities in great detail, no matter how ridiculous they seemed to him. Like how even though Bellatrix was away at Hogwarts this year, she was still expected to make sure her sisters and cousins toed the line. The only way she could do this was through owl post, and she had schoolwork to occupy her time. He could not remember Walburga sending them owls to instruct them while she was at Hogwarts. He hoped Bellatrix had instructed Andromeda to look after Narcissa, not that there was any worry. Narcissa rarely caused any trouble. Most of the children were too young to get into serious trouble, hopefully. They had all shown signs of magic, at least the girls, so there was not any danger of any of them being a squib and that was the only thing they could get blasted off the tree for at this age. The boys were too young but they were not likely to be squibs either. The worse they could do at their age was torture the house elves, an act typical of most pureblood children. No one would get punished for that. However, it was impossible for him to not worry about it even as he turned his attention back to the family tapestry speech today.

Next to Bellatrix, Andromeda, the next oldest, looked much like her sister. Slightly lighter hair, slightly different eyes, but one could almost mistake them for twins. Andromeda was also quieter, more introspective, even at this young age. She would start Hogwarts next year and he suspected she would be thrilled with the size of the library there. He was always bringing her new and exciting books. She would not be able to keep up at Hogwarts.

Narcissa, who inherited the Rosier genes on her mother’s side, which gave her grey-blue eyes and long silvery blonde hair, her appearance much different than her older sisters. She was more delicate than them as well but still a darling child. It was clear that she was the favored child amongst the girls. Cygnus smiled more around her, and Druella was not constantly reminding her to stand up straight or to cross her legs. It was a little eerie how much like a miniature adult she was in the presence of adults, he much preferred her when it was merely he and the children and she could be more of a child.

Sirius, the impulsive little imp and heir, also with the classic dark hair and grey eyes of the Black family. At almost six, he was mischievous and loved to get into trouble. He was much like Bellatrix in that matter, both of them overly curious and ready to push the boundaries. His smile could soften most everyone, Alphard thought, and could not see how it was possible to discipline the child. Maybe this was why he, himself, was not yet married with his own brood, he would not be able to get them to live up to standard. He wanted too much to spoil his nieces and nephews and had no desire to discipline them. His own children would be demons.

Finally, little four year old Regulus, baby of the family, lived up to the Black family name in looks but he was much quieter than his rambunctious older brother. Alphard thought he might take after the introspective Andromeda but the child was much too young to know for certain. His personality had not come in yet as strongly as the other children, but as he was a Black, Alphard knew it would come in time. He was simply an easy-going toddler; it spoke nothing of what he would be as a man, or even in a few years. No shame in being quieter and calmer than his older brother.

When the adults had finished with this family tradition, they left the room to finish this or that before breakfast and gifts, leaving the children and Alphard behind. Sirius and Regulus got bored of the tapestry fast, quickly heading over to their uncle who rewarded them both with chocolates, Sirius leading the way to the treats.

“Did Bella teach you what to say, Reg?” 

Reg nodded, and continued stuffing his face with sweets. 

Sirius piped up. “She mouths the words to us if we forget. She says if we don’t say the right words, mum won’t let us have brekky.” 

Alphard chuckled at Bellatrix’s choice of threats, probably the thought of not getting Christmas breakfast was more lasting than the thought of Walburga’s slap. 

“Is it true Uncle Alphie? Would I be sent to my room with no brekky if I didn’t say the right words?” Sirius had momentarily stopped between chocolates to ask the question.

“Worse.” Andromeda and Narcissa had come up behind the two boys, Narcissa with her eyes wide and arm outstretched. Alphard smiled at her, handing some chocolates over. Andromeda continued, “She wouldn’t let you open your presents either. If you didn’t say the right words all your presents would go to us. Cissy, you could have at least asked nicely!” The last directed at the younger girl.

“Oh. Sorry.” A delicate blush crept over the youngest girl’s features. “Thank you for the chocolate Uncle Alphie.”

“No need to apologize.” He responded, handing Andromeda a piece too. “It’s Christmas and I always give you chocolate, just be sure you keep it a secret I give you chocolate before breakfast.”

All four children nodded and continued talking to each other, mostly about what they thought they would be receiving for Christmas. He could see Bellatrix was still standing by the tapestry, tracing things out with her finger. She wrinkled her nose, staring at the top of the tapestry where the coat of arms and family motto were. She might have been taller than the rest of the children but the tapestry was large and she could not see the top. He saw her get out her wand, clearly contemplating if she knew any spells that would get her up where she could see. 

She pointed the wand at one of the footstools, “ _Locomotor Scamnum_!” she declared and then with a running leap, jumped onto it. It took some doing but she managed to levitate the footstool, with her on top of it, to the top of the tapestry. It could not have been a smooth ride, her forehead wrinkled in intense concentration as the footstool stuttered back and forth in the air as it climbed. He got his own wand out in case she should fall.

“Toujours Pur,” she started to whisper as she reached her arm out to trace. But she lost concentration of her spell as she did, the footstool plummeting back towards the ground, causing her to fall over backwards in mid-air. With a couple flicks of his own wand, Alphard set her gently on the floor and scooted the footstool back into place. She caught his eye, biting her lip, a deep flush announcing her embarrassment at being caught failing. 

He gestured for her to join the others, “Before the chocolate is all gone.” She gave him a little half smile before she crossed the room over and took one of the offered goodies. “Don’t worry,” he added, “ I won’t tell them. It’ll be our secret, just like I don’t tell them you feed words to your cousins.” 

Hearing the accusation, her eyes flew wide and she looked ready to lie to defend herself. 

“It’s a very nice thing you do for them Bellatrix.” 

Realizing he was not mad at her, she relaxed. “I’m supposed to look after them. It’s my duty as the oldest.” The way she said it was nonchalant, clearly she had accepted this long ago and the idea she was supposed to look after them was as simple as ‘the sky is blue’ or ‘we are better than everyone.’

“It’s not easy to look after your sisters and cousins is it?”

She looked up at him with a quizzical look on her face as if she did not understand what he meant. The poor child looked suspicious, as if he was trying to catch her in misconduct. 

“I’m supposed to,” she repeated, but it was not as confident as before. “It’s my duty.” She quickly took another piece of chocolate, as if chewing on that would make the conversation impossible. 

“Bella,” Alphard said softly, “I won’t tell your father anything you don’t want me too. I will keep any secret you want me too. I will keep any secret any of you children want me too.” He put a hand on her shoulder and led her away from the other children, doubting someone as proud as her was likely to open up near whom she was supposed to serve as a role model, but he needed her to know that if she ever needed anything, if any of them needed anything, he would be there for them. 

Alphard knew his younger brother well, and doubted Cygnus had grown out of needing to assert his control. However there was not much Alphard could do about it. Bellatrix was not his child and Cygnus was well within his rights to discipline her as he saw fit. Children were bound to misbehave, part of being young, but it was not right for her to take the blame or punishment of more than one, and judging from the protection of the younger ones during the Christmas recitation he bet Bella was. And all he could do was tell her that anytime she, her sisters, or any of the children needed him, he would come. 

“If you need me, just call my name into the fire. I’ll hear you.”

She looked down at the ground at his words, as if the floor had suddenly gotten very interesting, clearly contemplating what he had said. She looked up and swallowed as she met his eyes, nodding to show she understood. Bella took a breath in, as if to speak, and then paused, thinking better of it, and then changed her mind back again.

“It’s hard,” she whispered, looking so young in that moment. It did not last as she quickly justified her own actions, “Someone has to look after us and I’m the oldest.”


	18. A Very Sirius Milestone

Christmas had been good to Sirius, what with receiving lots of presents. He was fairly confident in saying it was the best Christmas ever, even if he wished his cousins, especially Bellatrix, had stuck around longer. They had vacated Grimmauld Place about a week ago, leaving him with his parents and Regulus, causing boredom to set in fast. His cousins he would see at a few end of the season parties, except Bellatrix, who had boarded the train to Hogwarts yesterday morning. The events still to attend would be considerably less interesting because of it.

Even so, it still was one of the best Christmas’ ever. Two of his cousins had wands now and much of the holidays had been spent watching Bellatrix demonstrate the magic she was learning and Andromeda’s attempts to learn from Bella. That was highly entertaining, Bella not being particularly patient when it came to teaching. Having someone in his play circle with a wand made everything much more fun. 

There had been a little before, usually if Bella lost her temper, with Cissy and Andy contributing other accidental bursts. Now that Bella had her own wand and knew actual spells, when they wanted magic, it was possible. It did not always happen; Bella refused to be at the beck and call of the younger children, reminding them that she was not their entertainment. (And sometimes, her limited knowledge would not allow for it, not that she would admit anything of the sort.) But more often than not, she would wave her wand, much to their delight. And Bellatrix’ own glee over the attention they bestowed on her. Andy was a little less awe filled now that she had her own wand, but Bella had more skill, more spells, and more precise wandwork. Sometimes Andromeda waved her wand and nothing happened. Attempts at magic did not always go as planned, especially when one’s wand was only a month old.

All the magic being done around him made Sirius very annoyed he had not performed his own first magic. Bella asked about it frequently, and with no affirmative answer, kept telling him he was going to be a squib. She had done her magic at five and he had just turned six. Thank Merlin wherever Bella went, Andromeda was normally close behind with assurances. Else him and his eldest cousin would have come to fisticuffs more than a few times over the matter, not an unusual occurrence anyhow, with Sirius’ constantly coming out the loser. Bella was six years older, bigger, and armed with a wand complete with a few good hexes picked up from older Slytherins. Once, after he pulled her hair, she had sat on him, and after a little bit of pummeling with her fists, covered his chest in boils. Fighting her could be dangerous. Once he had magic at his command he would properly get her back. 

He knew he was not a squib. Andy said Cissa had not done magic until she was seven, and apparently some people until even older than that. Andy had been six when she did her magic and he was six now so Sirius was constantly on the lookout for anything that could be considered magic, even though all three of his cousins said it would happen when he did not expect it. He had heard all about their first magical experiences; Bella blew up a snake, Andy organized her bookshelf and Cissy floated little golden flowers. Frankly, he hoped his own magic took after Bella’s, the other two things sounded really boring and stupid. Bella’s sounded exciting and he tried to hunt down snakes in hopes he could cause something to happen. No such luck.

He’d tried sitting in front of a bookcase as well, but nothing magical had occurred. Quite the contrary, Cissy had come in and asked him what he was doing and was soon followed by his cousins. Even Andy had thought his actions ridiculous and Bella flat out called him stupid. She did that a lot. When he tried to do what Cissy had done he had made sure to lock his door. They knew how to unlock doors, Bella could even do it magically, but that would give him enough time to hide the evidence. It didn’t matter, no one came through the locked door and nothing happened with the flowers.

That was the only thing that was probably preventing this from being the very best Christmas of all time in which nothing could ever surpass it. The lack of first magic. He had been hoping to do it over the Christmas holidays, while everyone was around to see it. Whenever he did stuff like that, stuff that, in the words of his mother, solidified his place in the family, he got a lot of attention and rewards. First magic, proof that he was not a squib and therefore a proper heir indeed, was going to be a big deal. 

There were thoughts that at least one of the burn marks on the family tapestry was a squib, which was why Bella kept telling him he was going to get kicked out of the family. They didn’t know for certain. No one knew about the burn marks, Sirius was pretty sure his parents didn’t know about the burn marks. But it made sense, those people were not actually part of the family anymore because they were not on the tapestry. Only the people who were on the tapestry were family; the tapestry had everyone. All the names on the tapestry looked important, the burn marks did not. No names for the burn marks either, just little round circles where someone ought to be. Nothing to say who they had been or what they had done, they simply had stopped existing. It was probably written down somewhere, there was tons of family history books in the library, but Sirius, who could barely read, was not going to bother. He had seen Bella pouring through some of them from time to time, but she refused to read them aloud.

It would have been great if he had done his first magic while she was here. Then he could prove he was not going to be a burn mark. Stupid Bella. Now, if he did magic she would demand proof. At first he had been making Kreacher follow him around so Kreacher could tell her but he did not like having that thing follow him. It used to follow him everywhere so he stayed out of trouble, having Kreacher to follow him around was annoying. He would have to find some other way to prove it to Bellatrix.

Some day other than today. His mother was holding yet another party and preparations were heavily underway. House elves scurried all about, cleaning the clean rooms, preparing a test menu to be tasted, decorating and anything else that the party might require. It meant Sirius and Regulus were supposed to stay upstairs and out of the way. Sirius was not big on staying out of the way; if he stayed upstairs he could not know what was happening downstairs. All the interesting things were going on downstairs. He wasn’t going to waste time in his room playing with a train when he could be spying on everything.

Regulus did not seem interested in finding out what was going on, so Sirius left Regulus behind. He still considered his brother a baby even if he was not that much older. Regulus never wanted to do anything interesting. Regulus was boring. Really, really boring. 

Sneaking downstairs was a lot harder than Sirius thought it was going to be. It seemed every time he was ready to make a dash for it there was a house elf coming up or going down. It took him over half an hour to get down to the second floor and most of the action was on the first. Finally he decided he should use the dumbwaiter, no one ever used it. Why they even had one was unknown to the boy, house elves did not need one to get anything upstairs. It was one of those weird anomalies that could not be explained, similar to why the neighbors were too dumb to see his house. He could fit inside, and it was possible, just barely, to lower himself down, difficult but far easier than trying to avoid the busy staircase, with the elves and his mother constantly going up and down.

They seemed to be busy; as they always were while preparing for parties, but now that he was on the first floor there were more places to hide so he would not be seen if someone happened to come into the room. 

He had been hoping for something to perk his interest, something more exciting than his toys upstairs, but everything looked the same as it always did when there was a party going on at 12 Grimmauld Place. The furniture had been rearranged, and the decorations were new but other than that it was like any of the other preparations he had seen. Nothing different, new, or particularly exciting. It was very disappointing to have come down here to be in the midst of the action only to find that there was nothing exciting about the action. It had been far more entertaining to get downstairs than to be downstairs. The house elves did not even see to notice him, being all wrapped up in their work. 

Bored again, and not wanting to bother with trying to haul back upstairs in the dumbwaiter, not that he was likely to be able to lift his own weight, Sirius flopped down on one of the couches. Too bad all his toys were upstairs. 

Maybe he could bother the elves. He could give them contrary orders and throw books on the floor. After all, they had to obey him; it was part of their duty to the family. Anything he said, they had to do. Even if some of the elves looked on loan from his cousins, they were still all bonded to the Black family and he was a Black. 

“Hey!” he called, pointing at one of the elves. “Get me a glass of water!” It was amusing to see the creature drop what it was doing to go and get water, damp flowers not even touching the floor before another elf had intercepted them, whisking them away. Moseying over to the bookcase, he grabbed any of the books and knickknacks he was tall enough to reach and started throwing them around to room. When a house elf noticed and came to clean up, Sirius ordered it to “Do it by hand,” refusing the elf’s magical abilities, thus allowing him to run into another room and start the process all over again. 

He got through four rooms before his mother wondered where all the house elves had gone, and came to investigate. Seeing Sirius being his usual troublemaking self, one of her flower arrangements in hand, she ordered him to go back to his room. She never let him have any fun! Instead of complying, he took off running down the hallway, discarding the flowers as he went.

Walburga took off after him, after setting down orders to the house elves to ignore anything Sirius told them. This counteracted his previous orders so they were able to quickly fix what he had disturbed. The few seconds head start Sirius had on his mother allowed him to run into the drawing room, a couple of doors down. Quickly, he picked a hiding place behind the heavy drapes. When he was playing hide and seek with his cousins recently he had hid behind them and he had been hard to find because of how they laid against the wall. All he had to do was wait until his mother went back to what she was doing.

When playing hide and seek with his cousins, he had over a minute in which to go and hide. He had been able to hide without anyone following him directly. Here, his mother was close on his heels and he had left a trail made up of the former flower arrangement. While the room had plenty of places to hide, Walburga was through and it did not take her very long to find her mischievous son, grabbing him by the ear and pulling him out from behind the drapes. She deposited him on a nearby chaise and starting yelling at him.

“You were to stay upstairs! In your room! What are you doing down here?!”

“It was boring upstairs,” Sirius complained.

“ _Boring_!” Walburga shouted. “You do as you are told.”

“It was exciting down here!” Sirius protested, earning a slap across his face, repeating “It’s _boring_ upstairs,” as a response to that.

Walburga continued to scream at him, so Sirius, no one for being yelled at, tuned her out. It wasn’t fair! It was boring upstairs and he wanted to be where the action was. Who cared if his mother was having an important gathering? It was always _important_. It was _stupid_. Why wasn’t what _he_ wanted ever important? No one ever cared about _him_! He glared at the curtains in annoyance; they had let him down. If they had hid him better he wouldn’t have to sit here being yelled at. He hated them! _Hated them!_

As if on cue, the thing Sirius had been waiting for happened. His annoyance and anger caused his magic to manifest itself, and the offending drapery burst into flames. Sirius’s eyes widened and he scrambled to his feet on the couch for a better look. Walburga, who did not want feet on her furniture changed the subject of her anger, but she had not gotten far before she felt the heat at her back, turning around to face the drapes, her mouth dropping open in surprise. Normally, at such an opportunity Sirius would take off running in the other direction, given a distraction to once again escape from his mother, and therefore punishment. But _the drapes were on fire_. He had never seen anything spontaneously burst into flame before. 

Walburga did not let it burn very long, water shooting out the end of her wand, putting a halt to the fire. Immediately, house elves came in to whisk the offending mess to the garbage and to get some new drapes prepared for the room.

“No, no,” Walburga instructed. “Don’t throw them away. Orion will want to see them. And I might want to show them off at the party.”

The house elf immediately obeyed. They would still be replaced, being entirely inappropriate to let disfigured drapes hang in any room, much less a public one. If Walburga needed to show off this particular set of drapes they would be appropriately prepared for such an event. Once the house elf disappeared with instructions, Walburga enveloped her oldest son in a big hug.

“Look at you! All grown up!” she exclaimed. “I’m so proud!”

Sirius let out an “umph” as his mother squeezed him tightly. He could not remember his mother doing that, but the tone of her voice was no longer angry so it seemed like a good thing. He was still suspicious; it could be some sort of plot to get him to go back upstairs.

“Everyone will be jealous,” Walburga continued to gush. “Many of their boys didn’t do magic at such a young age. Of course I knew you would do it young, Blacks are more predisposed to magic at a young age.”

“My magic?”

“You set the drapes on fire. Now, I have many things to do for the party, but first, down to the kitchen to get you a treat.”

Sirius felt this was weird, the hugging, the happy talk and the treats, even though he had been expecting some of that, but he was not going to say no. There were lots of goodies in the kitchen right now and he was sure to be able to sample all of them, before some house elf wrangled him upstairs to triple check the fitting on his party robes.

As Sirius sat in the kitchen and ate the goodies that abounded there, he thought about what had just happened. It had not felt like he thought magic would feel like, it had happened without him even knowing it. But soon enough, he decided how exciting it was. The next time his cousins came over he was going to have to try to do some for them. The best part though, was that his mother had seen it, there was no way for Bella to refute it. She would have to believe him because he had a witness! Plus, setting curtains on fire had to be as cool as blowing up a snake. She didn’t have the best and only non-boring magic! They were even.


	19. Faultline

Christmas holidays had been good in two ways, but neither her presents nor showing off to her cousins made up for the freedom she had at Hogwarts. Bellatrix was happy to return and escape the rigid rules of her parents. She had gotten used to making her own decisions in the few months she had been away, being back under their rules was considerably difficult for the twelve year old. At school, if she did not want to braid her hair, no one said anything if she did not. At home, she was firmly reprimanded over the offense of letting her hair fly all over, and sent back to her room to rectify the issue. 

There were lots of similar rules that at Hogwarts she could ignore if it pleased her. Minor things that allowed her to express herself more freely. She was still very much the representative of her family, very much the picture that people would expect from a member of one of Britain’s oldest wizarding families. Impeccably dressed at all times, already firmly claiming her place and position in Slytherin house hierarchy. 

Her position as the self proclaimed ruler of the first year girls had a lot to do with why Hogwarts was preferable. While it had been unlikely someone would challenge her for queen bee, she had staked her claim immediately, the first night they had been at Hogwarts, using the power her surname bought her to solidify what she believed was her birthright. 

One of the girls that had been assigned to her dormitory was unsuitable, and Bellatrix was not someone who had to accept the fate of rooming with someone unsuitable for seven years. Whoever did the dorm assignments obviously was not aware of proper social hierarchy. She had expressed her concerns to the prefect who had delivered them to the room and requested a very specific switch of girls, ready to launch into a firm reminder of social status should the prefect not try to do anything about it. The female prefect was clearly not amused by this request, but she told them to wait in the common room while she talked to their head of house. 

Bellatrix received her specified switch and in that moment, the hierarchy among first year girls was determined, and the four girls who shared a room with Bellatrix Black marked as better than the others. The hierarchy only became more defined once the girls picked beds in accordance to their perceived position in society. In the other rooms it was much the same; each room a miniature class sect. 

This was how it was in Slytherin, the students there firmly believing in hierarchy- with them at the clear top of the school. Mostly it followed year lines, most children in each year were from the same type of families. Every so often students with particular bloodlines ruined the simplicity of the traditional, by year superiority. The Slytherin common room was in for a change.

Seventh years had the most desired positions in the common room, and most of them, if they were worth their salt had reserved seating. No one else was allowed to use those chairs. Most of the sixth years had similar status, in chairs near where the seventh years congregated. Family connections could get you bumped closer to the group in power, but the younger you were the further from the point of power. 

Most of the first years were content to take whatever seat was available, in any corner, anywhere. First years had no power. Many of the older students used them as messengers and errand runners, hazing being nothing to bat any eyes about. Bellatrix and Lucius were hardly going to stand for that. _They_ were the best society had to offer and they were not going to be regulated to grabbing any old uncomfortable seat in some corner and hoping the group of them would manage to scrounge up enough chairs to sit together. Some of her group took a diplomatic approach by taking seats often occupied by fifth years, but that was hardly Bellatrix’s style, and like a little victorious queen, claimed a seat reserved for a seventh year.

This did not sit well with the seventh year whose chair it was. Not used to being challenged, to those watching the interaction in the common room, his rage was worn clearly on his face. It looked like little Bellatrix Black was going to be spending a week in the hospital wing. But Bellatrix had not sat in just anyone’s chair; she had chosen the seat of a boy whose father owed her father money, a useful tidbit had come out of the Christmas holidays. She was not expecting to be given this seat, it was prime real estate in the Slytherin common room and she was only a first year. She was aiming for her own seat, a seat that would be hers and hers alone, right about the range of where the fifth years sat, and she was not above blackmail in order to get it.

“Out,” he ordered.

“No.” Bella was firm in her response and the older boy practically breathed fire at her defiance. 

“That’s my chair.”

She raised her eyebrows.

“Get out!” He drew his wand now. First years were supposed to do exactly as they were told. Clearly, this one needed a lesson in manners. He knew who she was, but she was still a no-status first year.

Bella paused for a second, as if considering her options, before getting to the point, “pay me to.”

A long moment passed and Bellatrix was not sure if he understood her reference. This would only work if he understood she knew the precarious grounds his family’s financial situation was on. If he did not understand, she was capable of spelling it out for him. She had not set out to ruin his reputation, but neither was she leaving without her own chair. It was not her fault his father did not know how to handle money. The boy knelt to the ground so he was on her level rather than staring down at her, and she knew he had caught her hint. “Move,” he hissed.

“What are you offering me?”

The boy looked around, and pointed to one of the nearby chairs. “That one.”

It was a more than acceptable chair, large enough that if they wanted both her and Isolde could sit side by side. She was just about to accept with Lucius popped over to put in his two cents.

“She needs five chairs,” he said.

“WHAT?” The seventh year exclaimed, standing back up to his full height to glare down at the boy. “She’s one person.”

“Five chairs. For her, me, Miss Nott, Lestrange and Rosier.”

The seventh year stared at Lucius for a moment, seething and then looked down at Bellatrix.  
Despite being annoyed with Malfoy for hijacking her brilliant plan, she saw no flaw in his logic, nodding seriously at the older student.

“I’ll have to talk to people,” the seventh year muttered. “I can’t give away five chairs.”

“Talk to people then,” Lucius said. “We’ll wait.”

“Until tomorrow,” Bellatrix stated. “Tomorrow after dinner.”

“What happens if you don’t get them?” the seventh year asked, trying to find a way out of it.

A deliciously devious smirk crossed Bella’s face as she stood up, “I write to my father.” It was a bluff, her father was not going to care where she sat in the common room and would only be annoyed with her trying to be more important than a man. But familial rules stated that he was duty bound to believe and protect his flesh and blood and she could concoct a story that required his action.

The seventh year was angry but there was little he could do. When it came to societal power, Bella’s family had much more than his own family, and his family was already on shaky ground because of monetary debts. He was going to have to get the stupid first years chairs.

Next evening after dinner, there were chairs, labeled and set out for the five of them. It was not prime real estate, not even as good as the chair Bellatrix had been offered for herself, but it was much better than anyone through year three had access to and no one in years four or five would be allowed to sit in their seats. Bellatrix was pleased, this would do for now, until they took an even better position in the common room. She noted the seventh year had been regulated to a different chair as well, demoted to the fringe of the seventh year area. She had caused that, with only a bit of information and relying on the influence of her surname.

She had power at Hogwarts, and at home she did not, making Hogwarts clearly more desirable. Her father made sure she did not have any power. He was the power at Black Manor, and no one else was allowed any. She might not be the power at Hogwarts, but she certainly was not at the bottom. For a first year she had more influence than most. And she ran with a crowd that had more power than most.

One of the few things wrong with Hogwarts was that not everyone in the school subscribed to the same social organization. While there were purebloods in all the other houses, for some reason not all of them acted in ways that they should. Some houses were not places any respectable pureblood would want to be sorted into, the house reputations no longer being something to aspire to, and students in those houses were subsequently looked down upon.  
Bellatrix could not imagine Hufflepuff ever having a good reputation; the traits of that house were things one got in a good house elf, hardly admirable in a wizard. If one was going to hand over wands to house elves, they would all end up in Hufflepuff, so it made sense for all the mudbloods to end up there. Gryffindor used to have a better reputation, before it started to get infected with the mudbloods and blood traitors. 

Not that the Gryffindors seemed to care, or they were too poorly informed to know better. Slytherins and Gryffindors had always had a bit of a feud, dating back to the days of Godric Gryffindor and Salazar Slytherin themselves, a feud that had only intensified. No longer was it solely played out on the Quidditch pitch or regulated to the fight for the house cup. The two houses had taken the matter to the corridors of Hogwarts.

Some students were more dedicated to the matter than others, despite most of each house harassed the others in their year, more than what could be considered friendly banter. The upper-class Slytherins tended to bother whoever they could, no qualms about teaching a younger Gryffindor their place. Gryffindors usually spouted off some nonsense about it not being chivalrous to pick on younger students, but that hardly meant all of them avoided it, and plenty of younger students had gotten injured when noble Gryffindors had come to their aid and hexes started flying. 

One such student, Fabian Prewett, had decided to take preventative measures.

He was of the mind that all Slytherins would grow up to mimic their older counterparts. His idea was that if he scared them when they were young, they would not grow up to be a bunch of pureblood bitches and bastards. It had seemed easy last year when he had first gotten the idea. But then, the first years last year, seemed almost normal. This year, stuck up and spoiled was only the beginning of it. Some of them looked so entitled you could feel their sneers within a ten foot radius, distinctly marching around with an air of being better than everyone else. 

During the sorting ceremony, he’d marked down who was clearly a pureblood, not just the Slytherins. Good to keep an eye on all of them. The surnames were familiar to him, distant relations, but it for some it was clear they were pureblood brats by the first names alone. Who named their kid things like Bellatrix and Lucius anyway? Sadists, that’s who.

Intimidating Slytherins could be a challenge; they tended to run in packs, even more so than the other houses. Especially this group of first years, their dislike of interacting with people from other houses quite clear. And for some reason, the Slytherin prefects always seemed to be conveniently nearby. Old money bought you a lot of things. It was so stupid, so infuriating that they thought they were better than everyone else. Gideon had fed him some bull about how they were not taught any better, but it was not a real excuse, it was not as if they pissed gold. To Fabian, there was no excuse to act like that at eleven. Merlin only knew what they would be like as adults. Terrible human beings. That was why he did this. It was worth a shot, startle them a little so they could have their eyes opened. They would turn out to be better people. 

He observed them in the hallways first. Some of them might not need it. Some of them might be intelligent and not complete bigots. A couple of the girls did not seem so bad. However, they would not stay that way if they continued to spend any time with Bellatrix Black. Her sense of entitled superiority radiated off her, walking around like she owned the place and she was not even halfway through her first year. That girl was a bitch in the making if ever there was one.

When he saw her without her posse, merely walking the corridors with another first year girl, he thought he had the perfect opportunity. The other girl did not look as obnoxious as Bellatrix, but logically, if she was hanging around the Black girl, was probably equally as insufferable. The corridors were almost deserted, most of the students were in the dorms at the moment and presumably these two were headed back in order to drop off their belongings before supper started. The perfect time to strike.

“Oi! You Slytherins!” he yelled at the two girls. Neither stopped walking. “Wait up!” Again, nothing. “Black!” 

They stopped and turned around, giving him a look over. Bellatrix did not recognize the boy, but the insignia on his robes were hard to miss. Her nose wrinkled up and the two girls started walking again. Fabian was in step with them by this time. 

“Hey, Black! I want to talk to you,” Fabian persisted. “Come on, give me a minute. Talk to me.”

She halted. “FINE. What do you want?”

“Just to talk.”

Bellatrix gave an overdramatic sigh, “Talk then.”

She was clearly worse than he thought, acting like it was some special privilege to get to talk to her. That she was allowing him to say words to her. What a spoiled pureblood bitch. Merlin. He’d known. From the moment she was Sorted. It was obvious, although he had not known the extent of it. The other girl hung back a bit, but Bellatrix, clearly the dominant between the two, took a couple of confident steps towards him, crossing her arms over her chest. Her message was clear: what the hell do you want?

“So, you are a Slytherin.”

Bellatrix gave him a look that made it clear she thought he was a moron. “I’m wearing Slytherin robes.”

“Slytherin girls are bitches. Are you a bitch?”

“She’s twelve,” the girl behind her offered.

Fabian shrugged, “She could be a bitch already. So... Bellatrix, right? Are you a bitch?”

Bellatrix made a face and turned back on her heel. She did not get far. Fabian was not going to give up that easily and he grabbed the arm of the younger girl, pushing her into the nearby wall, pinning her wrists to her sides with his hands. “You didn’t answer my question.”

The minute she was grabbed, Bellatrix stopped paying attention. Even when her father manhandled her, her immediate reaction to it was to fight back, and no one but her father was allowed to put his hands on her. Fighting her father generally got her into more trouble, but this was a Gryffindor, not Cygnus Black. This kid was not going to knock the breath out of her and pin her to the wall without her injuring him in some way. Her wand was trapped, but kicking was a perfectly logical means of escape, and she attacked his shins with well-aimed precision. With the conversation swiftly turned altercation, her friend took off towards Slytherin, where there were prefects and safety. She would send someone back to help Bella, but she was not going to take on a fifth year alone. 

Fabian shook the younger girl, “Answer me! Are you a bitch?”

“Let me go! Let me go!”

“Not until you answer me!”

Bella screamed bloody murder causing Fabian to flinch for a moment before glaring at her, “That wasn’t an answer.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be,” she muttered as she struggled against him, but he had a few years on her in size and strength. 

“People hate bitches. Do people hate you?”

“ _I. hate. you_!” Bella screeched. She wasn’t exactly sure what he was asking but she would not dignify him with an answer now even if she did. The meaning of the word was relatively unknown, her father had called her mother one at least once, and it had been bandied about the common room more than a few times, but all she could really discern was that it was an insult.She was not going to let this Gryffindor insult her like that. She was Bellatrix Black and she was better than everyone she knew. 

“You should be too young to be a bitch. But I think you are.”

Bellatrix refused to answer, continuing trying to kick him. Her wrists hurt, his grip could not be described as gentle and the way she was struggling against the wall did not do her any favors.  
He had basically figured out how to avoid her kicks now, taking a few steps away from the wall, and leaning into her. It meant more weight on her wrists, infuriating her more, and preventing her from sliding down the wall to where she might wiggle free.

Without her wand she felt helpless. The feeling she hated the most. She might not have known as many spells as Fabian, but if it had been in her hand, she would have used everything in her arsenal. 

“ _Let me go! I hate you! Let me go!_ Bella screamed repeatedly over and over. Fabian continued to berate her about being a bitch, demanding she declare whether she was one or not. 

It was not long before help came her way. The other girl had run into Rodolphus on his way back to Slytherin and he took off in the direction of Bellatrix while Bellatrix’s friend ducked inside Slytherin for more help. 

Rodolphus arrived with his wand drawn, immediately hitting Fabian in the back with a hex, not caring that he would not be able to hold his own against a fifth year for long. It caused the boy to drop one of Bella’s arms while he went for his wand. With her wand arm freed, she drew her wand and hexed his other arm to force him to let go. Shoving him hard and giving him one final kick, she took off running full speed towards Slytherin house, hearing a loud “ _BITCH!_ ” screamed after her. She passed a couple of prefects on her way. Prefects who gladly took over for Rodolphus in Fabian Prewett’s “do not mess with Slytherins” lesson. 

However, Bella was not satisfied. She wanted the last say, and she _would_ have the last say. As far as she was concerned, Fabian Prewett owed her and he would _pay._


	20. Society is a Masked Ball

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Society knows perfectly well how to kill a man and has methods more subtle than death”  
> -Andre Gide

It had been a difficult decision for Narcissa, but ultimately she decided she had to talk to her mother. After all, everyone else had received an invitation over a week ago and still no owl came winging with one for her. At this point, it looked like she was not going to get one. The party was at the end of the week.

Her sister, Andromeda, had been no help in figuring out what to do. When Narcissa had asked, Andy told her not to worry about it. If she had been invited, she would get an invitation, and if she had not been invited – then she had not been invited. Narcissa had not known what to make of _that_ statement. Of _course_ she was _invited_. Isadora Pucey was not allowed to not invite her. All her friends had been invited. Simply because Andromeda did not seem to enjoy parties as much as Narcissa enjoyed parties did not mean her older sister could say something like “had not been invited.”

They were not people who were not invited to things; this was something Narcissa understood well. Her family got invited to everything and should there be multiple conflicting events, they only attended the ones they deemed important. Other families of the same social caliber they always attended on, but other families not so high on the social scale relied on the Blacks being free and in good spirits. Narcissa had already learned a great deal about snubbing. Last year a family that overstepped their place in society had invited her to a party and she had not been allowed to attend. That sort of action sent a reminder of where one stood.

But snubbing did not apply to her. No one was allowed to go around snubbing her. She was a Black, one of the oldest wizarding families in existence, and ignoring her meant severe social consequences for the family that ignored her – no matter the reason. That was why she had been conflicted about going to her mother. She was upset about not being invited, but her mother might decide that even should an invitation be offered, Narcissa would not be able to go. What if her mother said that she could not attend parties thrown by the Puceys for a while? Isadora might not be her best friend, but Narcissa liked her well enough and did not want to injure their friendship. Besides, she liked going to parties and wanted to attend this one. She had already picked out her dress.

However, she could not attend without an invitation and no invitation had come. She had to talk to her mother.

Her mother had friends over for tea, which did not make it an ideal time to discuss the matter. But, once they left, there would be a window of opportunity before her father came home and dinner arrived on the table. Her father would not want to hear about such things, he liked to talk about the Ministry, and he preferred her and Andromeda to be next to silent. She had to discuss it with her mother now.

There was a footstool by the door, and there she perched, waiting for the talking to die down and everyone to filter out. Andromeda would have thought to bring a book but Narcissa had done no such thing and found herself getting awfully bored while she waited. She almost wished Callista had not told her about the party because then she would not have to deal with it. Callista Greengrass was one of her closest friends and when her invitation had come, had written to Narcissa to see if she was attending. It made sense; Narcissa always got her invitations first. Excepting this one occasion. Hopefully her mother would be able to fix it and no one would ever know. No one but her and Callista, who had already promised to not attend if Narcissa was not on the guest list.

It seemed like she had to wait for hours, there was no clock within eye distance, but she flounced and smoothed her skirt over and over and over again and that had to take a lot of time. It occurred to her that she could have a house elf get her something to pass the time, but then she heard the door open and her mother’s friends started filing out, bits of gossip catching her ears. Narcissa jumped to her feet in order to greet everyone. She knew the women well, all frequent visitors to the manor. She knew pretty much every pureblood that came to parties semi-frequently and could easily match names with faces. It was an important skill, one she was very proud of since neither sister was as good as she.

“Mother?” Narcissa asked tentatively, after the other women had left. Druella Black was fixing her hair in the mirror, watching the house elves clear the dishes from tea out of the corner of her eye.

“Yes, Narcissa?”

Narcissa took a deep breath. “I need to talk to you about Isadora Pucey’s birthday party.” She paused, and looked at her mother.

“You can always send an elf to Diagon Alley to buy presents, Narcissa. You do not have to pick everything out yourself.”

“It isn’t that.” Sighing, she explained the problem, “I didn’t receive an invitation.”

Her mother stopped what she was doing, turning to face her, “What?”

Narcissa started picked unhappily at the lace on her dress. “Callista received her invitation a week ago. Everyone did. Except me.” Her mother watched her carefully but did not say anything. Was she supposed to continue? That was all that had happened. Or rather, had not happened. “I want to go. Everyone is going to be going. Well, Callista said she wouldn’t go if I didn’t go…” She stopped, her mother said frequently that rambling was not what proper young ladies did, and Narcissa did try to be a proper young lady.

“Have you fought with the Pucey girl lately?” her mother asked. “Any reason why they would purposefully not invite you?”

“No.”

“Well, we’ll give them then benefit of the doubt this time. You wish to attend the party and you are old enough to learn how to handle this sort of thing.”

Isadora and her mother were invited to come to two tea days later. Mrs. Pucey claimed the invitation must have been lost in the post, the original had been sent, and enclosed a new invitation with her reply to Druella. Narcissa was indeed on the guest list, right at the top, her invitation had gone out first. Despite this, Narcissa realized the game was not over. The invitation had come, but it had come too late. It was not enough to send her an invitation when all the other girls had gotten theirs long ago. 

When the invitation arrived, Druella sat her youngest down and had Narcissa pen out an RSVP, simply stating if her plans freed up she would be happy to attend. Narcissa had not understood the point of that at first. Druella explained it was a calculated action. If Narcissa did not attend, word would get out she was not attending. Chances were the Puceys would have other little girls withdraw their positive RSVPs. Anyone who did attend after that would see the party was not being attended by the upper echelon of society and would be quick to strike the Puceys from the next social event thrown by their family. No sense in getting in the middle of a social feud and being stuck on the wrong side. 

The response to Isadora and her mother was a note that the Blacks were accepting that it was a postal error, but that did not erase the fact that damage had been done. Narcissa had been distraught over not receiving an invitation, although Druella had explained that it would not have mattered even if Narcissa had not cared at all. Therefore, Isadora and her mother needed to make a concentrated effort in bridging the gap, and that was why the Puceys had been invited to tea. Today, they would be making an attempt to get Narcissa to come to the party and with no reason for bad blood between the families, there was every reason to believe the efforts would be acceptable. There was a very slim chance the Puceys would fail, but the odds were in their favor.

Narcissa had picked out the perfect dress for tea, one she thought looked very important on her. A lavender floral print with ruffled lace edging and a darker solid colored purple sash. White mary-jane shoes over white lace socks were on her feet and she had little pearls in her ears and a golden locket around her neck. This morning she had brushed her hair exactly one hundred times and the white alice band she put to hold her hair in place completed her outfit. She was absolutely ready to deal with whatever should happen at tea.

Her mother was in a lovely yellow and orange floral on beige tea dress with a full skirt and sleeves that stopped right at the elbow, with heels that matched the yellow of the dress. A classic strand of pearls was around her neck and there were diamond studs in her ears, small enough to be tasteful, big enough to be clearly expensive. Her hair was pulled back in a French twist with an enameled clip that was one of Narcissa’s favorites. Narcissa thought that when she was her mother’s age, she wanted to dress very similarly, except not in yellow, because that washed her out. Her mother had darker hair then she did, not as dark as either of her sisters, they both clearly took after their father, but dark enough to get away with the color yellow. Narcissa thought it made her resemble sunshine. 

Isadora and her mother were not a moment too early or a moment too late, arriving to the minute of when the tea date was. A house elf ushered them into the parlor where Narcissa and Druella were waiting and poured tea for all four. Narcissa was a bit nervous now they had arrived. She had been carefully coached in what to say, how to act and she had practiced in front of her mirror several times, but it did not make her nerves go away. What if she messed up and shamed her mother? It had to go just so. Attempting to settle her nerves, she reached for one of the petit fours, at the same time Isadora did. The other girl gave her a meek little smile and Narcissa returned it. Probably Isadora was as nervous as she was, if not more. The thought made her feel a bit better.

Mrs. Pucey took the interaction between the girls as an excellent excuse to get started. “I am terribly sorry about this unpleasantness. Of course I went right to the post to complain the minute you informed me. I should have been more forceful in indicating how important these invitations were, and of course I never should have left dear Narcissa’s up to a post owl. I merely thought with our own owl getting on in years and my husband too sentimental to replace him…clearly I was wrong. We are ever so sorry. Please, would you and Narcissa accept these chocolates on our behalf? I do hope she can come to the party this Saturday.”

The game had begun exactly as her mother had told her it would, a reiteration the oversight was not a snub, and a gift to help smooth the waters. Now it was her turn. 

She accepted the chocolates graciously, to indicate both her and her mother believed it had been a mistake out of their control. “Thank you for the kind gift.” As if she was thinking, she tilted her head to the side a bit, “ _This_ Saturday?” Isadora nodded, confirming what everyone in the room already knew and Narcissa continued, “Oh dear. I wish I had known sooner.”

Isadora’s turn. Narcissa could tell the other girl was not enjoying herself. Her mother had probably explained to her what was riding on this, and how to proceed. She almost felt sorry for the other girl, but then remembered how horrible she had felt when she had to tell Callista she had not received an invitation. Besides, they all had to learn to play these games; they were part of what kept society together.

“Do-do you already have plans?” Isadora asked, dismay evident on her face and in her voice.

Narcissa nodded, “I do.” She looked at her mother as if clarifying something, but it was only for show. This game was not so hard to play; it was even a little bit fun. “I’m not sure it can be rescheduled.

“Oh,” Isadora replied, looking genuinely crestfallen. “I understand. I-I hope you can find a way to fit me into your schedule. I’d really enjoy having you come to my party.” She glanced over to her mother who nodded encouragingly. “Um-as you saw on the invitation, it will be fairy themed. I was hoping you could be my partner for the scavenger hunt. I’m sure you’d be best at it, and the winner gets first ride on the fairy swing.”

Narcissa looked up at her mother, this was as far as her part went. In her mind, it seemed as if Isadora had played by the expected rules. She had given Narcissa a present and been rightfully upset when Narcissa said she could not attend, and then had offered her something special at the party. Druella seemed to agree. “If you will just excuse me a moment, let me see if Narcissa’s plans cannot be pushed back a little.”

They all knew Druella was not changing anything when she left the room; it was formality for appearances sake. Even though the outcome of the game had seemed pretty predetermined in Narcissa’s eyes, Mrs. Pucey was visibly relieved the moment Druella mentioned a change of plans. 

“Have a lemon cake?” Narcissa offered Isadora. “They’re very good.”

Small talk filled the air as they waited for Druella to return. Isadora asked about Narcissa’s sisters and Narcissa asked about Isadora’s brother, then about plans for the party – a fairy theme sounded delightful. They got to discussing the dresses they were wearing and Narcissa made sure to include Mrs. Pucey in the conversation like a good hostess would, but she seemed pretty content to let the girls talk on their own.

Soon enough, Druella returned to make the announcement. Sitting back down and taking a sip of her tea beforehand, she informed the Puceys that Narcissa would be able to attend, although she might have to leave early. (Narcissa knew this was false and assumed the Puceys would also know this was another thing said as part of the game.) The game was over then, everything set to rights. They could enjoy their tea and each other’s company.

After it was all over, as Narcissa made to head back up to her room, the Puceys gone home and house elves clearing the tea things, Druella spoke directly to her, praising her behavior. “You were very good, much better than Isadora, her nerves were written all over her face. White as a sheet. You kept your composure the entire time. Did you enjoy it?”

“Yes.”

Druella nodded approvingly. “It’s nicer if you enjoy it, and I’m sure you’ll get even better. Don’t ever let the other party get the better of you. It’s important to always stay on top. And you can avoid making the mistake the Puceys made, always follow up with your most important guests, a little note making sure they got the invitation. Then you’ll never have to make apologies.”

Narcissa nodded, filing the information away for later as her mother waved her off upstairs. Her mother knew all the little useful tricks of society. It was easy to be on top when you knew how to play.


	21. Religion of Solitude

Tomorrow, Regulus had an important birthday. Five. It sounded important. It was a lot older than four. Things happened at five. His cousin Bellatrix had done her first magic at age five. Actually, technically, his brother Sirius had also done his first magic at five. But he had been closer to six than he had been to five, according to birthdays; Sirius had been almost six when he set the drapes on fire. In any case, five was still an important age, and in less than twenty-four hours – not even an entire day, he was going to be five.

And no one cared at all.

Only him.

Everyone else had forgotten.

He thought they would have remembered. After all, it was not every day that someone turned five. Apparently, it was not every day that other people got engaged. He did not even know what that meant, and no one had bothered to explain it to him because they were too busy.

“Stay in the nursery until the house elf comes. Don’t muss your suit.”

Regulus never mussed his suit.

Sirius had been told to stay in the nursery with him, but Sirius never did what he was told, even when it was as easy as stay. Sirius was always being yelled at for not doing what he was told. Regulus was hardly ever yelled at, because he always did what he was told. Besides, there was nothing interesting downstairs. The toys in the nursery kept him perfectly happy and no one yelled at him because he did not muss up his suit. Sirius always wanted to be where the grown ups were, where he thought everything was happening. He always messed up his suit and then their mother would yell.

Regulus never liked that. He did not want to be yelled at, not really, but the attention might be nice, if it was not yelling.

He played by himself a lot, since Sirius was too busy getting yelled at. He had an excellent train set that moved on its own once the track was all set up, a charm recognized when all the pieces were connected and the train would go. Regulus liked that. He liked that it was neat and orderly and did what it was supposed to do. 

Sirius had a tendency to step on the train tracks and pretend to be a monster. Once, Sirius had gotten angry and kicked the train. Regulus had cried. Mother had bought him a new train, of course, but Regulus was always wary of Sirius coming over to play after that. It never bothered him that Sirius preferred to sneak out of the nursery. Then, the train did not get ruined.

Of course, no one would have ever forgotten Sirius’ birthday. No one would have scheduled a party for someone else the day before Sirius’ birthday, which was quite a feat because Sirius was born during the Yule season and there were always parties. But Sirius was the heir and that meant he never had to compete with anyone else. Regulus could not figure out why his mother would have agreed to host this engagement party for cousins he could not remember – not even his close cousins! Not when he had a very important birthday tomorrow. She must have forgotten about it. 

The fact of the matter was that he was almost five - getting closer every minute, sitting on the window seat of the parlor that all the children had been herded into, wearing an uncomfortable suit where the tie was too tight and made him tilt his head back slightly, and being generally miserable. No one knew what an important day tomorrow was. No one had mentioned it in the least. Not even his older girl cousins who were across the room with some of their friends, and he had been pretty sure that Andy or Cissy would have remembered. 

But they had only said hello and wandered off to find their friends. No one had said: happy birthday tomorrow, Regulus. Or even: happy early birthday, Reggie, which was a nickname he did not like very much. It would have been better than nothing.

When he felt that everyone who was coming was probably here, he had climbed up onto the window seat to settle into having a good long sulk about everything. A good long sulk before dinner was just the thing he wanted when he was wearing a too tight tie and everyone forgot his birthday. At some point they would all be forced into the dining room where they would be eating and he would have to listen to whatever someone else wanted to talk about, because no one let an almost five year old talk. 

Even if they had, he would not have wanted to. All those people. 

The adults were having ‘or-ders’ in the ballroom, but all the young people would be stuck together in the dining room, and he was not looking forward to it. The older children would be allowed into the ballroom after dinner, and with them, any chance he had of anyone remembering his birthday, since his older girl cousins would go, and if his nicest girl cousins forgot – no one would remember. They were usually nice. But they had forgotten today and he was not going to forgive them.

This was a nice window seat because the curtains hung on the room side rather than the window side, which meant he could sit behind them and hide from everyone else. All by himself. Which was generally how he liked it anyways. Everyone else was so much louder than him. They talked and laughed and told jokes and dropped things and spilled things and created loud noises out of thin air. He preferred to watch, but that was not what he was supposed to do. His mother told him all the time that he was supposed to make friends and get to know them and talk to them. But she had not told him _how_ to make friends. 

Once he had tried following Sirius around and making friends with the boys that Sirius tended to drift to at parties, but he was not sure if he liked those boys. He was not always sure he liked Sirius. 

Well, of course he liked him in that Sirius was his brother and a person always liked their family. But Sirius was so different; it was hard for him to believe they were brothers sometimes. Opposites in every way, his cousins had said. Cissy said that was okay, just look at her and Bella, they hardly agreed on anything, but they were still sisters and liked each other. Regulus thought this might be a bit different. All the other boys who had brothers seemed to get along with each other and pay attention to one another. But Sirius probably did not even remember that tomorrow as his birthday. Not unless someone told him, but who would tell him. Although, Sirius was not likely to remember anyone’s birthday except his own, so maybe it was not so bad if he did not remember Regulus’ birthday. 

But Regulus never forgot Sirius’ birthday. He knew when his cousin’s birthdays were as well. 

It was mean that everyone had forgotten his birthday and he had to talk to all these other children, and make them feel welcome. “That’s your job as a host,” his mother said. He was not really sure what that meant. It was not a party for him. He did not want the party. It had not been his idea. 

At least he did not have to talk to anyone while he was in his window seat. He could even peek out and watch other people, and most likely they would not notice him at all because they were all busy with each other. Watching them was much nicer than talking to them.

Bellatrix was against the wall, with the boys her age rather than the girls. She did that a lot, which confused him since mostly the girls stuck with the girls and the boys stuck with the boys. Oh, they knew how to talk to one another, but the girls were friends were girls and the boys were friends with boys. But Bellatrix did things that other girls did not, whether or not she was really supposed to. Regulus was never really sure what counted as something she was allowed to do or not allowed to do, but it was not something he had to worry about, because the adults knew. Probably she knew too, she just was like Sirius and did not pay attention. 

Andromeda was with her closest girlfriends. Three of them, talking about something one of them held in their hands, it was probably a book. They would be going to Hogwarts come September. He knew Andy was excited and he assumed her friends were as well. To start to learn magic. Eleven was another important birthday but his was so far away he could not even fathom it. Hopefully no one would forget his eleventh birthday. 

Narcissa was in the center of the room with a large group of her friends. All the girls her age were gathered together chirping happily about something or another. They could have been talking about anything, but Regulus felt they were probably talking about their clothing, because Cissy tended to talk about that a lot, and not just her own, but what other people were wearing too. He did not think it was as exciting as she thought it was, but that was probably a difference between boys and girls. 

Sirius was wrestling another boy close to the door, but Regulus had no idea why. A small crowd had formed around them, and Regulus knew his older brother was going to have a thoroughly mussed up suit, which meant there was going to be yelling. Something that was easily avoidable if only Sirius did not get into wrestling matches for no apparent reason. Most of the boys Regulus’ age were also over there, watching. They had been playing with some of the toys left out for the children, but those had been forgotten, left behind in order to watch and cheer on the ridiculousness his brother was getting up to. 

He pulled the curtain back so he could no longer see out. Hopefully someone older would break it up and Walburga would never know and then she could not be mad. Regulus hated when she was mad, and it would not be a good birthday present for him, even if she was not mad at him. If one of the older kids did not break it up, probably a house elf would go and get the adults and then Sirius would be dragged off into another room and while Regulus was not entirely sure he liked his brother, at least all the time, he did not want him to get into trouble. 

Neither did he want to get involved. Sirius never listened to him anyways. Sirius called him “Mommy’s boy” a lot. 

Regulus was not entirely sure why that was supposed to be an insult. It sounded like Sirius wanted it to be an insult, his voice always sounded teasing or mean when he said it. But what was so wrong with being a mommy’s boy. If their mother was pleased, that was a good thing. She was happy then and there were more treats on the table and more toys to be had. Sirius did not seem to care about those things, nor did he care if their mother gave him a spanking.

Regulus had never had a spanking. He did not want one. He liked being good. It was how he was supposed to be. He liked it when things were as they were supposed to be, people included. Which was why he did not like it when Bella spent so much time with the boys, or Sirius mussed up his suit. That was not how things were supposed to be. If he knew that, and he was younger than they were, why did they insist on doing things that made other people angry. It did not make any sense. 

It made far more sense to be good and do what one was supposed to do. It was like his train tracks. If everything was where it was supposed to be then the train could go. How did things go when people did not fit together like they ought to, like the train tracks. Regulus could not put two knobbed sides together, a knob had to go into a hole. People had places where they fit in as well. 

Which meant he ought to get down from the window seat and go be with the other boys his age. Even if the other boys his age were watching Sirius muss up his suit. Sirius was not a good person to follow. It was better to follow Andy and Cissa and they were doing perfectly respectable things. 

Sighing, he pushed aside the curtains, and scooted backwards off the seat, heading across the room to the other boys his age. They had terrible views from down here, because of all the older kids, they had to poke their heads between legs and people, and they still could hardly see. He could hardly see and some people let up a little for him because he was a Black, and he was Sirius’ brother. 

It seemed to take forever, but finally, one of the much older children, on the edge of graduating out of the children’s area when it came to a party like this, came along and pulled them apart, brandishing their wand and telling everyone to behave. Sirius just sat there and grinned, acting like it was no big deal, only a bit of fun. Regulus wrinkled his nose, his brother was utterly ridiculous but luckily was saved from talking about the wrestling with the other boys his age because a house elf came to usher the entire roomful of children into the dining room. Much to his pleasure, that took him off the hook for any talking what so ever. Maybe it was good no one remembered his birthday, then he could stick to observing, which was what he liked best.


	22. Filing a Pail...

The Black girls had little preparation to do themselves to be ready for September first. School materials were purchased by house elves months in advance. House elves packed each girl’s trunk. Both girls had limited say in what articles of clothing to bring, based off what would be practical for Hogwarts. Both girls had multiple sets of uniform wear, although Andromeda would not receive ties until she had been sorted tomorrow evening. Other than their uniforms, the girls had two nearly identical wardrobes of dresses and smart skirt and blouse sets, packed into two nearly identical trunks. Pants were not acceptable for women in the Black household. Neither girl had ever owned a pair.

Other than directing house elves, the girls were required to receive the talk. This would be the second year Bella heard it, so she knew what was coming when the two of them were summoned to their father’s study, her least favorite place in the house. It was where she was summoned when her father wished to inflict punishment; an imposing uncomfortable room associated with bad memories. Andromeda rarely went to her father’s study but that did not make her any more comfortable. It was hard to be calm when Bellatrix was clearly uneasy.

Ushered in by a house elf, the girls were instructed to sit on the couch, and Cygnus immediately started lecturing.

“Tomorrow, you start Hogwarts.” He paused, waiting for the girls to acknowledge with a nod before continuing, causing Andromeda to start worrying about knowing the proper responses. “This is an important occasion, Andromeda. Starting your official magical learning. But, you must remember every day you are at Hogwarts, you represent this family.”

He stared at them for a long moment. Both girls presented blank faces and he was unsure if it was due to them being stupid or useless. Did they not understand or were they merely not giving any indication of their understanding. If he had boys this would not be a problem.

“Is that clear?” he demanded.

“Yes, sir,” Andromeda answered, while Bellatrix nodded again. 

“Hogwarts lets in all sorts of wizards. The headmaster lets everyone with even a smidgen of magical talent in. You will have to be careful about who you associate with. There may be classes that you share with a mudblood-“

“You will share…” Bella muttered under her breath.

Cygnus glared and she went silent, despite being right. When Slytherin unavoidably had classes with other houses, there would be undesirables around. Every year had at least one mudbloods.

Cygnus returned to his speech, “You are not to interact with such things. There is no reason for you to interact with filth. If you are told to interact with someone improper, you are to protest. Not all teachers share our beliefs, and might try to pair you with something inappropriate. In a worst case scenario, working with a half blood is preferable.”

Bellatrix resisted the urge to roll her eyes. No one _wanted_ to work with mudbloods, or halfbloods really, but most of the teachers ignored student’s wishes when they tried to pair people up. There was a reason Slytherins segregated themselves when they shared classes with anyone but Ravenclaw. Some professors tried to foster inter-house relations by mixing study partners up, purposefully intermixing houses. Bella had decided early into her first year that if she did not know her partner previously, she would make them look bad. She would not given her superior magical talent and knowledge to some random student. She would have to educate Andromeda as to how it worked at Hogwarts.

“Write home if a teacher forces you to work with a mudblood. As of yet, we have not been successful in forcing the school governors to forbid their education, but we have a right to dictate whom our children interact with. The professors have no right to make a pureblood work with a mudblood. Remember that.”

Andromeda nodded along. She did not want to work with any mudbloods. The way people talked, it seemed safer to stay away, better to keep to her own sort.

“It is imperative for you to get sorted properly. Slytherin is the best choice, because the house will not take less than a pureblood. Right now, Ravenclaw is also predominantly pureblooded, so it would be acceptable for you to end up there. As a Ravenclaw, you would need to be more careful than you would in Slytherin, there could be halfbloods in your house.”

Andromeda nodded again, “Yes, sir.”  
“Some mudbloods might try to approach you and make friends. Or, children of muggle supporters may try to sway you the wrong way. You must be wary and watchful at all times. If you do not already know a person, you should avoid them. The people you should associate with you already know; the members of society have been known to you for years.”

Both girls nodded when Cygnus again stopped to see if the girls were paying attention. This might have been a talk specific to attending Hogwarts, but the sentiment had been heard before. The differences between them and other people were well documented in their minds. Each believed herself better than others. They were special. They were Blacks. Mudblood filth dirtied up the world. Their world.

Hogwarts was the first place the girls would encounter people unsupervised. Up to now, should an undesirable cross their path in someplace like Diagon Alley, it was easy for Cygnus or Druella to find ways to protect them. They were under careful watch. But at Hogwarts, the girls would have to watch themselves, something they were not used to doing. If Andromeda ended up in Slytherin, next to her sister, there would be very little worry of her running into someone who would injure her reputation, put the wrong idea into her head, steal some of her magical talent, or any combination of the three.

“Bellatrix, your duty is to watch over your younger sister. Make sure no filth comes in contact with her.”

Bellatrix nodded, making her sisters and cousins lives easier was something she had been doing for years. It would not just be mudbloods she had plans to protect against. None of the older Slytherins would haze her family. No other student would be allowed to bother her sisters, or her cousins when it came to it, simply because they were younger. If they wanted a chair in the common room, she would ensure they got one. She did not mind fighting, there was an element of fun in ensuring she got her way.

With his talk complete, Cygnus dismissed his daughters and went back to more pressing matters.

The next morning was the big day, complete with appropriate train outfits. Under her Slytherin robes, Bellatrix had donned an emerald green dress. Andromeda looked much like her sister had the year before, grey skirt and green button up blouse, looking like she belonged to Slytherin even without insignia on her robes. Narcissa, in her signature periwinkle blue, stood out in contrast.

This year, their aunt, uncle and cousins were skipping the occasion, due to being on holiday out of the country. Her attending Hogwarts was not as important as the first of the generation attending, and Andromeda was not surprised to hear they would not see her off. It would have been nice to say goodbye to her cousins properly, but an owl would have to do now.

Due to Narcissa waking up with a bit of a cold, with no time to send a house elf out to buy a pepper-up potion, they were relying on Floo to get to King’s Cross, much to Bellatrix’s displeasure. She preferred apparition, even if the feeling was a bit unpleasant. Floo was obnoxious and despite being a seasoned traveler, she managed to get soot on herself more often than was deemed appropriate by her father, which inevitably led to trouble. She was already counting down the days until she could apparate herself: one thousand, eight hundred and eighty-two days left.

The three girls arrived moment before their parents, Bellatrix brushing off bits of soot due to her hasty journey; the house elves and trunks arriving seconds after the adults of the family. The Floo arrival spot was on part of the platform itself, to keep the muggles from getting suspicious, mass obliterations several times a year being impractical for the Ministry. Many halfbloods and mudbloods came through the barrier between the muggle and wizarding platforms, but the old pureblood families did not bother with muggle clothing, robes being a sign of status, making Floo and apparition points on the platform an absolute necessity.

Pureblood families tended to trickle in before any of the other sorts, standing around looking important before the train left, giving their children condensed versions of the talks the younger generation had gotten the night before. None of the families were particularly emotional while on the platform, but many were significantly less dispassionate than the Blacks. 

Andromeda gave her father her complete attention while he reminded them of their duties and responsibilities. Bellatrix kept sliding glances around for her friends, even though she knew it was a good idea to keep her father in a decent mood since Narcissa would be going home with him. But Narcissa was the favorite and with her cold she looked so innocent and weak, she had to be safe. They knew the spiel. She wanted to with her friends, off to Hogwarts already.

Finally, the train signaled it was time to board and the two girls said their goodbyes, rushing through the motions with their parent, before wrapping their baby sister up in a hug. She was the only one they were truly going to miss. Narcissa had a hard time holding back tears, the actuality of both her sisters being gone for months hitting her now.

With the goodbyes finished, the girls headed for the train, climbing into cars the Slytherins used exclusively. Other students sometimes wandered in, but tended to leave fairly quickly due to the predominance of green. Bella made sure Andromeda found her friend, Briony Rookwood, before heading off for her own friends, telling her sister where she would be, should Andy have any need of her.

It was strange to know Bella was on the train, but they were not sitting together. Andromeda had known Bella would sit with friends and she would sit with Briony, but it was still odd. At home, the three girls spent nearly all their time together. Even when entertaining themselves, they tended to share the same space because it was only the three of them. But, Bella was nearby. They were in the same train car, just not the same compartment. That thought made the arrangement slightly less bizarre.

Briony and she spent most of the ride reading. They splurged a little when the trolley came around (although Andromeda immediately felt guilty about the money spent on candy), did a bit of talking over lunch, but they had both gotten a new book for the trip and were perfectly content to sit and read peacefully as they traveled through the countryside. It made the long ride pass quickly.

When the Hogwarts Express arrived at Hogsmeade Station, they disembarked together. Andromeda watched the older students head off towards the castle and she wondered if they were supposed to follow. She looked for Bella in order to ask, but could not see her sister in the throng of students.

Luckily, a man’s voice called out and answered her unspoken query, “First years! First years over here!”

Happy to have direction, Andy and her friend joined the crowd of first years headed towards the voice. A rugged looking man stood at the end of the platform calling for the members of their class. Once all the first years had arrived, he led them to a waiting fleet of boats at the bottom of the hill.

“No more than four to a boat,” the man instructed, as everyone clambered into the boats and set sail for the castle that loomed large against the darkening sky. The two friends shared their boat with two girls Andromeda did not recognize, but assumed it was because it was getting dark and she could really only see the back of their heads. Even if they were people she was supposed to avoid, they did not say a word the entire time so they were not trying to change her mind about anything.

The ride was smooth and pleasant and short in comparison to the long train journey recently concluded. Soon, they sailed through a low hanging ivy curtain and pulled up to an underground harbor. Andromeda was not sure if it was really underground, it had not seemed as if they had sailed downward, but they were certainly under a bit Hogwarts castle which seemed to go on for miles above them. That was good enough logic to consider it underground.

All the first years scrambled up the stone stairs built into the hillside, following the man – who had identified himself as groundskeeper Tiberon Og, to the front doors of the castle. He knocked, and a woman all in green tartan appeared to usher them all inside. His duty completed, the man walked away from the castle, disappearing into the night.

The woman who answered the door introduced herself as Professor McGonagall. Andromeda recognized the name as the deputy headmistress her parents complained about because she had less seniority than head of Slytherin, Professor Slughorn. But Andy could see why Dumbledore would ask this woman to be his deputy, she looked severe and strict, no one would walk over her. It was possible the woman was really horrible, but Andy decided to reserve judgment, the few words the professor spoke was not enough to inform her as to what kind of person McGonagall was. As far as she knew, the woman was not a mudblood, so it might be fine for Andy to interact with her, provided she did not support muggles. Andromeda was not entirely sure how she was going to find out such things, but it was her job to do so.

McGonagall spoke about each of the houses, and after checking to make sure everything was ready inside the Great Hall, led them through the door and past the long house tables to the front. Andy could see her sister at the Slytherin table and smiled, happy to see a friendly face. There was excitement in the air, rubbing off from those seated, eager and waiting to see who would join them. Andy could hear a few first years talking worriedly about what sorting would entail, which Andy thought very silly. Even if she had not already known, it was clear from Professor McGonagall’s demeanor that if it were something that required a warning, she would have given one.

Andy knew all that was required was putting a hat on her head. She’d heard about Bellatrix’s sorting, multiple times, and there were far too many pureblood children to be able to keep something as simple as a hat secret for any length of time. It was unclear if it was even supposed to be a secret; no one acted like it was. But, mudbloods would be scared of whatever it was. They were probably still shocked by the idea of magic. After all, they had not had it since the day they were born. Andy was completely baffled about how they got magic, the adults in her life offered no explanations, so all she had were assumptions. And no method of finding out how it really happened.

Except…asking a mudblood.

It would not be the same as letting one influence her. This would be purely academic. As long as no one knew she had asked, it had to be alright to ask. Just to know where the magic came from. It could not come from their parents. Not like hers had come from her parents. Not if the parents did not have magic. And really, she would be better able to protect herself against someone stealing her magic if she knew how they got magic. Andromeda made a mental note to ask a real, bona fide, mudblood at her first opportunity.

Professor McGonagall placed a worn looking hat on the stool in front of all the teachers as the first years gathered in front of the staff table. Andy was surprised at the state of the sorting hat. She had been picturing something more majestic. She supposed if the hat was really as old as everyone said, it was unlikely to be in the best shape. Their family tapestry was about that old and Aunt Walburga had to routinely place spells on it to keep it protected from pests, and it was still a bit worn in places. It only hung on the wall. The hat was worn by…she looked around trying to count all the first years to come up with an accurate number of how many students were in each year, but gave up because no one was standing still. In any case, it was worn by many students every year. That would cause it to wear down a bit.

She realized that while she had been thinking, the hat had started singing, and she wished she had been paying better attention. The song was a clever way of explaining all the houses again. Even if people had not listened to McGonagall, they probably were listening now; the entire hall was hushed.

Once the hat finished singing, McGonagall unfurled a long sheet of parchment, “When I call your name, you will come up and put the hat on to be sorted.” 

It sounded just as easy as Bella had told her. Sit on the stool, and the hat would tell her where to go.

She knew where she did not want to go. Not Hufflepuff. Bella said people became Hufflepuffs because they were not brave, or smart, or ambitious. It was not right for purebloods to end up in that house, not when there were spaces in Slytherin, and no one was more pureblooded than Andromeda. Neither did she want to go to Gryffindor, but she was not particularly worried about being sorted there. Bellatrix was far braver then her and Bella had not been sorted into Gryffindor; she could not possibly be sorted there if her sister had not.

Which left Ravenclaw and Slytherin with Slytherin where she expected to go. That was where Bella was and it would be strange to be in a different house. More importantly, she did not want to be in a different house than her sister. But, she was not entirely sure that the Slytherin words fit her. She was pure of blood obviously, and less sure about cunning and ambitious. She wanted to make her family proud, but did that make her ambitious? She liked getting her way, but did that make her cunning? She usually gave in when Bella wanted something different.

She liked the words for Ravenclaw, intelligent and wise, and she did like to read, more than anyone in her family, however, she did that for fun. Reading did not automatically make someone intelligent and wise. Although, her mother had been in Ravenclaw, despite Andromeda not considering her mother living up to the Ravenclaw words, maybe she had when she was eleven. If Druella had been a Ravenclaw, she could be a Ravenclaw, logically.

Truthfully, she was not really sure what house she belonged in, but that worried her, because if she was not ambitious enough or smart enough and she certainly was not brave enough, would she end up in Hufflepuff?

She could not be an afterthought! She would not!

While Bellatrix had hardly waited at all for her sorting moment, Andromeda had a lot of time to wait. The year before, first years had been called in alphabetical order, putting Bellatrix at the beginning. This year, McGonagall was calling names in reverse alphabetical order and that put Andromeda almost at the very end. She watched as Briony got sorted into Slytherin, which was a bit of a surprise, knowing her friend had talked a lot about Ravenclaw, only making Andromeda more determined to end up a Slytherin. Ravenclaw would have been alright with Briony there, but if Briony and Bella were both in Slytherin, she needed to be sorted into Slytherin. She did not want to be alone in Ravenclaw.

The group of first years got smaller and smaller as each new student jumped from the stool and headed over to their new table, ready to meet their new housemates. At first, Andromeda tried to count where everyone was going, an attempt to figure out what house would have room for her, but soon gave up. Spots were not limited to a certain number per house. Bella had told her everyone got sorted where they were supposed to go and it had not been entirely even. There had been a few extra Slytherins the previous year. Even though it seemed that a lot of people had gone into Slytherin, there would still be room for her.

Soon they were down to five, then four, then three, and then finally, “Black, Andromeda” came out of Professor McGonagall’s thin line of a mouth and Andromeda hurried to the stool and pulled the hat on over her ears, hoping the hat would see fit to put her in the same house as her sister.

“You must be the younger sister,” the hat spoke into her ear and Andromeda almost yelped in surprise. She had not realized the hat would _talk to her._ She knew it talked, it had sang and been yelling out names of houses all evening, but that was different from talking in her ear.

“It’s closer to telepathy, the other people in the hall can’t hear me, only the person whose head I’m on.”

Andromeda did not want the hat reading her mind. It was an invasion of privacy; there were things she did not want it to know. But how could she stop her thoughts? Think very hard about one thing?

“You aren’t alone in disliking it,” the hat remarked on her thoughts, causing her to glare upwards.

“It’s rude, Andromeda thought back fiercely. “I didn’t invite you to read my thoughts.”

“Unsurprisingly, those who dislike it most tend to be SLYTHERIN!” The hat yelled the last word and Andromeda was taken a bit by surprise. It had hardly talked to her at all and yet it had decided where she was going to be spending the next seven years of her life. She slipped off the stool, placing the hat back on top, unsure of how she felt about it and its prying ways. No time to think of it now, there was a feast to be had; the Slytherins were all cheering for her, and Bella was standing up on the bench, screaming and clapping, an empty space to Bella’s right clearly saved for her.


	23. A Terrible Secret

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Blood, Menstruation, Scientific Discussion of Sex
> 
> Eternal gratitude to Jess for the creation of Isolde Nott, and whose relationship with Bella is almost as much fun to dive into as the Bellatrix/Rodolphus one.

* * *

She was dying.

At twelve and a half. 

People who were dying had things that hurt for no reason and it was the only thing that explained everything. The feeling of her insides eating through to the outside had started a few days ago. A dull ache across her lower abdomen, steady and excruciating.

She was too young to die! She had not yet turned thirteen! She had not gotten to see Narcissa start Hogwarts. Lestrange would get away with the last prank he had pulled on her. Not fair at all.

Going to Pomfrey, who would confirm what she already knew, was not an option. Hearing it out loud would only make it worse.

How long did she have? Would she get pulled out of Hogwarts and have to live the rest of her days in St. Mungo’s? Would she be allowed visitors? Would Andromeda get to leave classes in order to say goodbye?

No doubts had been left when she had woken up to sticky thighs. When she pulled back the covers and hitched up her nightdress, there had been blood. _Blood was leaking out of her!_ She had hoped to find a cut or a scrape, something, anything to explain the blood. But her skin was smooth. She _had_ figured out where the blood was coming from, to her horror. It was coming from _inside_ her. She was peeing blood! Her body was eating itself and spitting out the blood! All she wanted to do was cry. And maybe throw up.

It had gotten on her hands and she was forced to wipe them on the sheets. It looked up at her, reminding her of her impending doom. She curled up in the opposite corner of her bed, clutching her pillow, wishing she could make some other girl take her place.

It was unacceptable that she was going to die and people she did not like would get to keep living. That made her want to cry more but she was hardly going to let herself cry on _their_ account. She would _die_ first!

“Bella?” a soft voice called from outside her curtains. Isolde pulled them aside, just enough to peer through, “You missed breakfast and classes are about to start.”

“I’m dying,” Bellatrix told her friend, hands wrapped over her abdomen.

“If your stomach hurts, you should see Madam Pomfrey. You’ll feel better before the end of class.”

“No. I’m _dying._ ” Bella pointed to the blood on the sheet. Her friend looked horrified, but Bella could not muster up the desire to say ‘I told you so,’ despite being completely justified.

“You _have_ to go to Madam Pomfrey!” Isolde tried to keep the panic from rising in her voice, but that was _blood!_

“It feels like my insides are eating me,” Bellatrix whined miserably.

Isolde pushed the curtains all the way back and put Bella’s arm around her shoulders, “Come on, you _have_ to see Pomfrey.”

Bellatrix tried to stand but the movement only added to her woes, gagging as if she was about to throw up. Isolde moved quickly to avoid such a thing and both girls fell to the floor. Isolde stared at her friend for half a moment before jumping to her feet, telling Bella to wait while she fetched help. 

Isolde flew up the short flight of stairs into the Slytherin common room, looking for the person best suited to help. Lucius Malfoy was headed out the door and she considered him for half a second, deciding someone older was better – chances were Bella would need to be carried. When one of the sixth year prefects came out of the entryway to the boy’s dormitory she pushed a first year out of the way to cut him off. She would apologize later. If she could remember who it had been.

“My friend is hurt,” Isolde said. The prefect did not seem impressed by her interrupting his day but she continued; it was his _job_ to be helpful. “My friend, Bellatrix Black requires assistance and it’s your _duty_ as a prefect to assist.” He glared down at her but Isolde refused to back down, holding her head as high as possible. Finally, he told her to lead the way.

When they got to the entrance of the girl’s dorm, he stopped and looked at her expectantly. She stared right back. “Come on!”

“You have to give me permission,” he said. “Or I can’t enter.”

Was he crazy? “You have my permission!” she practically screamed. 

Isolde was probably only gone about five minutes, but it seemed more an eternity to Bellatrix. 

“She’s ill,” Bella heard her friend explain to someone. “But she’s too sick to walk to Pomfrey.”

The prefect was wishing he had been faster in getting out of the common room. There was no way to get out of assisting when it came to two melodramatic second years. If he refused help, owls would be sent home, and he would have a howler by dinnertime. No matter how ridiculous this was.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked.

Isolde looked at him as if he was stupid. She had already told him Bella was ill and needed the infirmary. Him getting her to the infirmary was the whole purpose of dragging him into their dormitory, something she did not like at all. Boys were not supposed to be in the girls’ dormitory, but this was clearly an emergency! Prefects were supposed to recognize emergencies! 

He crouched down next to the girl on the floor. “Bellatrix? Can you tell me what’s wrong with you?”

“I’m dying,” was Bellatrix’s response and the prefect fought the urge to roll his eyes.

“I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong.”

“I don’t know!” Bella moaned. 

By this time, Isolde had gotten frustrated with the uselessness of the prefect, grabbing the sheet and pulling it towards him. “Take her to the infirmary. Now.” She glared at the prefect, one hand on her hip, the other pointing to the sheet.

Seeing the blood, the prefect took a step back, paling a little. Blood was cause for alarm, especially when it came to prominent young Slytherins. He could easily see himself being blamed for whatever injury had occurred, since he was here and she was injured. As he bent down to pick her up, he vowed to never run late to class again.

The fact she was now going to the infirmary did not stop Bellatrix’ fright, pain, or complaining. If she was dying, she had every right to make a fuss about it. Besides, she had just managed to curl into a semi-decent position that made her abdomen hurt slightly less and when he picked her up it hurt more. Her only consolation was that she would probably bleed on him. He deserved it.

Isolde followed the prefect out the door and down the hall, following the prefect like a second set of robes, making sure he was actually going to take Bella to the infirmary. She was supposed to be going to class, but she could not abandon her friend. Isolde felt the need to supervise, plus Madam Pomfrey might need her to answer questions about Bella. Knowing Bella, she was not going to be helpful in discussing the symptoms; she thought she was dying. While Isolde did not believe Bella was dying, despite her friend’s claims, something serious was obviously wrong with her. She trusted Pomfrey to fix all but the worst things, and there was always St. Mungos. 

The prefect was annoyed at Isolde’s very clear overseeing of his actions, as if he was some house elf. And was annoyed at Bellatrix’s dying cat noises. Second years did not fall over and die, so it could not be as drastic as she was making it out to be which made her whining more obnoxious. She could be grateful and thank him rather than being dead weight in his arms, like a sack of mandrakes.

But he managed, otherwise his blonde shadow would no doubt be running to the owlery as fast as her legs could carry her and he could not hex her without dropping the Black girl and he could not drop the Black girl without someone finding out. People always found out. His best bet was to get this entire thing over with and then go and complain to his fellow prefects about this stupid group of second years. Running around thinking they owned the place despite being lowerclassmen Social hierarchy really should have nothing to do with school hierarchy; he ought to have some chance to be better than them. 

As soon as the trio arrived at the infirmary the prefect dumped Bellatrix on one of the beds and high tailed it out of there. “I’m missing class,” he explained as he rushed past Isolde. “Transfiguration. I can’t miss McGonagall’s test.”

Isolde glared as hard as she could at his retreating backside. Her mother would hear about this. He should have stayed and talked to Pomfrey, even if he was _failing_ transfiguration. It was his duty as a prefect.

Pomfrey had no other patients and her charmed bell in the back rang as soon as the students stepped inside the door. Being in the front all the time meant the potions and cures got unorganized, and she did not always have trainees from St. Mungo’s as assistants. A bell system meant she could do all the work herself if she needed. 

Bella paid little to no attention to the nurse’s arrival. After the boy had dropped her onto the bed she had curled up into the smallest ball she could and dragged the blanket over her head. There might be other people here, and she was bleeding, in her nightgown. Bad enough without some Gryffindor seeing her. Thank Merlin everyone had already been in class so the hallways were empty. Probably her father would send a howler to her grave to admonish her for not putting on proper clothes to die in.

“What’s the problem?” Pomfrey asked, recognizing the blonde as Isolde Nott. Pomfrey made a point to know each student by name and face, it was comforting if they got injured. Young Miss Nott had never needed the infirmary herself, but she had accompanied her friend, Bellatrix Black in last year, some altercation with Fabian Prewett – who had a bit of a bad habit in picking on Slytherins younger than him. 

“I’m dying,” Bellatrix mumbled from beneath the blanket. Pomfrey was unable to make out what the girl had said, but correctly assumed from the hair peeking out that it was Bellatrix Black again. 

“Bella is hurt,” Isolde Nott answered her, taking charge of the situation. “She’s bleeding. But she doesn’t know where or why. It just happened. And she’s in a lot of pain.”

Pomfrey looked at the blonde girl, carefully, taking in her words. There were numerous things that it could be, but it was rather unlikely a second year had gotten hexed with any spell that would cause her to bleed. If she considered the social hierarchy that Slytherin based its foundation on, she knew that could not be the case, and no second year was going to accidentally come across some potion that would cause them to start bleeding. Which left few options.

“Bellatrix, did you cut yourself in any way?  
“No,” came the mumbled reply.

“No, she didn’t,” Isolde answered almost in sync.

“Alright, where is the blood coming from? Has it stopped?”

Bellatrix mumbled something that Pomfrey could not make out, but could tell from her tone the girl was embarrassed. Since Isolde offered up no explanation, Pomfrey assumed she did not know. She was also fairly certain she knew what was going on. It was not unusual for pureblood girls around this age to end up in the infirmary, panicking because their mothers did not bother to teach them about their own bodies.

“Isolde, go ahead and sit down on that bed there,” she instructed. “No, go ahead. Bellatrix is going to be fine. I will be right back with something for both of you.”

“But I’m fine…” Isolde started to protest but Pomfrey ignored it and headed to the back for supplies, including hot chocolate for both girls. Warm drinks made everything a bit more comforting while learning. Carefully placing the things in a pocket of her nurses apron, she grabbed the hot chocolate and came back to Isolde whispering to Bellatrix. Pomfrey set one glass down on the table next to Bellatrix and handed the other to Isolde, who looked suspicious and confused, but accepted the glass.

Sitting down on the bed next to Bellatrix, Pomfrey pulled the blanket back so she could look the girl in the eyes. “Are you bleeding between your legs?”

The Black girl’s eyes went wide and her cheeks flushed, a long awkward silence before she nodded in the affirmative. 

“And your stomach hurts?” Pomfrey asked. Bellatrix nodded again. “Alright, sit up, no you will be fine, sit up.”

“But it hurts…” Bellatrix whined.

“You cannot take a potion to cure that while lying on your side, sit up.”

Bellatrix slowly sat up, grimacing. Pomfrey noticed that on the other bed, Isolde was watching the entire exchange hawkishly, and had not sipped any of her hot chocolate. 

“Take this,” she instructed, pulling the potion out of her pocket and handing it to Bellatrix. “Then we are going to get you cleaned up. Isolde will wait here, and I will send a house elf to get you clean clothes and change your sheets. I assume there is blood on them?”

Bellatrix nodded, following instructions and taking the potion. After she had swallowed, Pomfrey helped her to her feet, walking her off towards the washroom. 

Isolde hugged the hot chocolate to her chest, entirely baffled. Madam Pomfrey seemed to know exactly what was going on, but how? Did a lot of people come down with a bleeding disease inside Hogwarts? Why didn’t they warn people? Was Pomfrey going to check her for symptoms? She had not wanted to drink the chocolate until she knew what was going on, but her thoughts only led to worrying, and the hot chocolate was comforting. She felt a little guilty, but Madam Pomfrey had said that Bella would be okay.

Soon enough, Pomfrey returned with Bellatrix, who looked uncomfortable, but not like she was going to die, not even holding her stomach anymore. When she climbed back on the bed, she did not curl into another ball, instead grabbing the mug of hot chocolate Pomfrey had left out for her. Madam Pomfrey placed something on the bedside table before she took a seat on the end of Isolde’s bed and summoned another cup of hot chocolate from the back.

“Do either of you know how babies are made?”

The two looked at each other in confusion. Isolde could not figure out what this had to do with Bella’s injury, and it looked like Bella had no idea either.

“Have either of you heard the word sex before?”

Bellatrix nodded confidently, and seeing her friend, Isolde matched the nod, but not the confidence.

“Do you know what sex is?”

The girls stared and shook their heads no.

“Well, in order to make a baby, a man and a woman have to have sex. Girls produce eggs every month and that’s one half of a baby. The other half comes from the boy, who makes sperm. When a man and woman have sex, he leaves sperm inside her, and if the sperm comes into contact with the egg, then there is a baby. Do you understand so far?”

The silence in the infirmary was almost deafening. Both girls looked shocked, and Bellatrix looked like she was going to spill her hot chocolate on her clean dress.

“Bellatrix, hold your cup upright, I don’t want you spilling on the bed.” Pomfrey was happy to see the girl listened and righted her cup to a less precarious position. “Do you understand what I have said so far? I cannot continue if you don’t.”

The girls looked at each other again. No one had every mentioned any of this before, and neither of them was really sure why Pomfrey was bringing it up now. Pomfrey would not lie so it had to be true. Even it they could not imagine how that worked. They nodded, and immediately sipped on their hot chocolate.

“For a girl to be ready for the baby, she develops a protective layer inside the vagina…” Seeing the girls’ eyebrows knit together, she explained. “Your vagina is up between your legs. Around your age is when this happens for the first time. If there is no baby, your body has to get rid of that layer, to start the cycle again. This causes you to bleed between your legs. We call this menstruation, part of the menstrual cycle, but a more common name is your period. Have you heard that before?”

She watched both girls think this over, brains cataloging information. Pomfrey wished pureblood mothers would talk to their daughters about this, because not talking about it led to terrified young girls who had no idea what their body was doing. But then again, none of the mothers of these girls had mothers who explained it to them. She could remember explaining it to Druella Rosier herself when Druella was slightly older than Bellatrix now, right after Poppy had started working at Hogwarts. Druella had not been the first that year, and no doubt Bellatrix would not be the last during Pomfrey’s career.

“So, it’s normal?” Isolde finally asked.

“Completely normal. That is what is happening to Bellatrix. It will happen to you, and all your girlfriends, probably within the next year. It will happen every month until you get to be about your grandmother’s age. Then it stops. All that it means it your body is mature enough to have a baby.”

That seemed to horrify Bellatrix. “What?!”

“You are not going to have a baby. It only means you _could_ have a baby, if you were to have sex.”

“But I couldn’t, because I haven’t started my period?” Isolde asked.

“Correct.”

The girls went back to thinking and drinking their hot chocolate. 

“Does it happen to boys?” Bellatrix asked. 

“No,” Pomfrey said. “They’re built differently.”

Isolde’s face wrinkled up into confusion. Pomfrey expected that from Bellatrix as well, and was surprised when the girl nodded along. That was a bit worrisome; Bellatrix was not yet thirteen.

“My cousin Sirius doesn’t like to wear clothes,” Bella told Isolde. “He has a thingy.” She waved a couple of fingers to imitate what that was like. Isolde looked to Pomfrey for clarification.

“The proper name for it is penis,” Pomfrey said. “Girls have vaginas and boys have penises. It does hang down a bit like that.

There are other changes your body is going to go through. You’ll start growing hair where your legs meet, and on your legs and under your arms. And your breasts will start developing. All of it is perfectly normal.”

“Tell Isolde about the things,” Bella said, pointing to the box on the table.

“Well, when you get your period you need to use a sanitary napkin to collect the blood.” She reached into her apron and pulled out a belt like thing. “The napkin attaches here and here,” Pomfrey made sure to demonstrate. “You wear the entire thing under your clothes and it keeps your clothes clean. It is a little uncomfortable at first. I have all the supplies you girls need at first, but eventually you will have to go and buy your own. The pad must be changed every couple of hours, and the house elves will wash the soiled ones, just like any of your other laundry.

“Sometimes your period will come with cramps, that was what made Bellatrix’s stomach hurt. A simple pain potion will take care of that. But you won’t have cramps every day. Sometimes they will start a couple of days before, and you’ll have a bit of warning. Chances are they will not last more than a couple of days into when you actually bleed. I have a book here on everything.” She pulled a book out and handed it to Bellatrix. “You can learn more about it. If you have questions, you can come back and ask me.”

Both girls nodded again and it did seem as if they understood, which made it easier. 

“I’ll write you a note for your morning classes. I’m sure you want to head straight to class, but I’m excusing you until after lunch. Head back to your dorm and look at the book first. Your teachers will understand.”

Quickly, Pomfrey pulled out the notepad that she used, jotting down a couple of lines and her initials on each before handing one to each girl. Finished with the hot chocolate, the girls accepted their notes, and Bellatrix gathered the rest of the things Pomfrey had given her. Once she got back to the dorm, she was hiding them as far under her bed as she could get them.

“Any questions, you come right back here and ask,” Pomfrey reiterated as she sent the girls on their way. 

The two walked back to Slytherin in silence. Every once in a while, Bellatrix made a face and readjusted her skirt.

“It’s not comfortable at all,” she told her friend. “And I really thought I was dying.”

“I don’t blame you,” said Isolde. She would have felt the same way, which was why she was secretly grateful it had happened to Bellatrix first.


	24. Box Full of Letters

It had been one thing when Bellatrix went to Hogwarts because Andromeda was at home to spend time with. But this year Andy had gone too. Narcissa had _known_ both her sisters would go and she had stood on the platform, happily waving them off the best she could, forcing down any hint of tears that tried to creep into her eyes. At ten she was too old to show too much emotion in public. 

_“Do not make people stare at you for the wrong reasons. Jealousy is an appropriate reason.”_

She was much closer with her sisters than her parents. She was her parents’ malleable little china doll, but with her sisters she was a living breathing person. She could not help but show emotion when they were concerned, and at ten, Cissa had not quite yet learned how to shut everything off so that outwardly she resembled nothing more than sculpted marble.

She was happy for them to go to Hogwarts, feeding off their excitement, and her idea that with her sisters gone she would receive more attention than she did already. Narcissa had been wrong about that, her parents gave her no more attention than they had before. Cygnus was busy with whatever he did at the Ministry; Cissa had no idea beyond what Bella had explained it as: giving money to the right people to get what he wanted. Druella was busy with parties and other social events. Cissa went to a lot of them, but she was only involved when her mother hosted, as long as she agreed with everything her mother suggested. Which, of course, she did.

Mostly, she played by herself, or forced the elves to interact with her, despite not liking all of them. She liked her elf, Mopsy, and her sisters’ personal elves, but some of the elves were downright creepy. Even the ones that were not, like Kreacher – their cousin’s elf nanny, did not make for good playmates and companions. But any of them were better than being alone. 

And her sisters were not reliable about writing. Narcissa wrote to them every day; often because there were limited things she could do with her time. Andromeda wrote back at least once a week but Bella was not good at correspondence. Bella did not answer her letters meticulously like Andy did, and she always asked about Father, even though Cissa had told her over and over that she was not making him mad and he never even raised his voice at her. Bellatrix wrote short letters, and never talked about the social scene, or what anyone was wearing. Even when Narcissa asked, she got little to no information out of her sister. Bella’s answer was they wore the same stuff as they did outside of school, which was not enough information. At all.

Whoever sent the Hogwarts letters should have known they could not take away both her sisters for an _entire_ year. She was not used to entertaining herself, she always had someone her age to play with. Sometimes, Cissa felt like she was getting replaced by Hogwarts. Both her sisters had their friends there to interact with, all the other people in their social spheres plus classes and extracurricular activities. The feeling of replacement was especially strong when it came to Bella. The youngest Black girl was definitely starting to get annoyed with Bella’s friends because they were stealing her sister. If Bella was not so distracted, she would probably write more.

However, it was hard to be mad at her sisters, mostly she simply missed them, a lot. Especially with all birthdays were going to be celebrated away from her sisters this year, being as her parents did not celebrate birthdays when the birthday girl was not present. Birthdays were more an excuse to throw a party to show off. Andy and Bella would have their birthdays within the next couple of months, without Narcissa. In the spring, her own birthday would be spent without her sisters and in her mind that was the same as no celebration. Being as it was her important eleventh birthday they would probably have a party, but it would be without Andy and Bella.

The thought was absolutely depressing.

Even if her sisters had their birthdays at Hogwarts, Narcissa still had to figure out presents. And she needed to go shopping soon, or Bellatrix’s present would not arrive at Hogwarts on time. It would be best to buy Andromeda’s present as well, no real guarantee that she could get to Diagon Alley a second time due to how close Andy and Bella’s birthdays were.

And maybe they could go today, her spirits perked up at the thought. She hoped so, that would be something to do. There would be other people in Diagon Alley to interact with or watch, and she could get the newest issue of Witch Weekly. She could not remember her mother having plans for today, although Narcissa did not have the social calendar memorized. Nothing had been said at breakfast, so if she reminded her mother about needing to purchase presents, maybe a trip could be arranged.

She took a quick check in the mirror before she left her room, smoothing out her hair and her skirt, even at home she had to look her best because she never knew who might drop by. Leaving the mirror, she headed down a flight of stairs and a wing over to her mother’s sitting room. Unless Druella had company this was where she could be found. All the party planning was performed there, sometimes intimate tea times, although generally social events were held on the first floor. Upper floors were for family only, or if they had overnight guests and had to open rooms. Overnight visitors could be fun, sometimes Narcissa and Andromeda had to give up their rooms to other young ladies, which meant sharing a room with Bellatrix. Narcissa enjoyed the occasional sleepover. She liked having her own space and she did not want to go back to living in the nursery, they were far too old for that, but there was something cozy about sharing the same room and falling asleep in the same bed. Nothing bad could happen when it was them three.

As Narcissa expected, Druella was in her sitting room, and from what Narcissa could see from the doorway, probably writing letters. Correspondence was important. Narcissa could hardly wait for the day when she would have intricate owl correspondence like her mother, more people to write to than her sisters. It seemed glamorous, having to devote a portion of the day to writing letters. Important people were answered first; she knew how the system worked because she had asked about the sorting system. Perfectly organized, each letter in its own slot, in order of importance. If a particularly close friend wrote back before Druella got to a less important letter, the less important got pushed to the side. It was also good for Narcissa, anytime she got confused about which of the lesser families were not in their good graces, all she had to do was check the letter desk.

She softly knocked on the doorway, “Mother?”

Druella turned, the sunlight coming through the window catching her hair and making it gleam. Narcissa made a mental note to put her own future writing desk near a window so the same thing would happen to her hair.

“Yes, Narcissa?”

“I was wondering if we could make a trip to Diagon Alley, for Bella’s birthday?”

Druella looked thoughtful for a moment and Narcissa’s hopes fell. If her mother was busy they would not go, or she would be sent with a house elf, which was not what she wanted. It was better to go with mother; they looked at more shops and would go for lunch. Other than Gringotts, she had been almost everywhere in Diagon Alley, but she liked all the stores and did not want to miss out on a full day of shopping. She crossed her fingers behind her back, even if that was juvenile. 

It seemed luck was on her side today when her mother put aside her ink and quill and stood up.

“That seems a reasonable request. We do need to buy birthday presents to send. I could do with some fresh air, my letters will wait.”

Narcissa beamed at her own success, pleased she was not going to be stuck at home. Shopping in Diagon Alley and having lunch with her mother was far more enjoyable. Plus, shopping for anything almost always meant she got things for herself, if there was something she particularly wanted. Neither of her parents said no very often, and wardrobes always needed updating.

“Let me get Bella’s last letter, I asked if she needed anything.”

That was not entirely the case. Narcissa had been unsure what her sister would want. Andy was easy to shop for, buy the newest book and be done with it. But Bella read more non-fiction than fiction, and she did not like fashion very much. She liked to look good, but she did not spend time looking at what was in the magazines and deciding what would look good on her and what was a terrible idea and what was a waste of a design. Bella had no pets, although pet supplies would make a terrible birthday present. Their relatives tended to buy them clothes or jewelry or little bric-a-bracs but none of those were especially good presents for Bella, who had a habit of flinging the breakable knick-knacks at the wall when she got angry. Cissy was not going to get her sister something likely to be ruined later, on purpose. Even if it was likely to be treasured because it was from her.

Since Bella was incredibly difficult to shop for, she had asked her sister what she wanted, which was considered tacky by many members of the Black family. Family knew one another and knew what to get. Plus there were rules regarding appropriate presents and inappropriate presents so that limited things. Her relatives did not care what they got Bellatrix because Bella would never be anything less then polite to their faces, but Narcissa wanted to get her sister something she would really want. Plus Bella had requested some items in a note to Druella that Narcissa had yet to pass along, which meant she needed the letter anyways. 

Her mother saw through her ruse anyways, “Narcissa, did you ask your sister what she wanted?”

Narcissa started to wrinkle up her nose and resisted, it not being a pretty look on anyone, but the corners of her mouth still turned down in a well-practiced pout. “I want to get her something better than everyone else will get her. Plus Andy can’t pick something out so it has to be extra special from both of us. And she did write down things she actually needs.”

Druella raised her eyebrows but let it go. Chances were whatever Bella had said she would like would be things that made sense to buy her, and Narcissa’s heart was in the right place, the darling. She only wanted to make her sister happy, and being that she was all alone at home, Druella could not blame her for trying to plan an excellent birthday package to send her sister. Besides, Cygnus would never find out.

“Go grab that and your coat and meet me downstairs in twenty minutes. I need to powder my face.”

Narcissa walked at normal speed until she was just far enough for her mother to not hear her footsteps and then ran the rest of the way back to her room. She would have to smooth out her clothes and fix her hair before meeting her mother, but she was too excited to contain herself and better to get that out in private.

Quickly, she evaluated the outfit she was wearing to decide whether it was suitable to be seen in public and if she had worn this particular combination of clothing and accessories to Diagon Alley yet. She deemed it acceptable, and it did not look to young either, which was something Narcissa was constantly worrying about now. Her navy cloak would be best for this. The one with the ermine trim would be prettiest, but she was not sure if it was entirely cold enough to be wearing the fur yet, better to be on the safe side and stick to the plain wool. She was too old to get away with wearing something she thought was pretty but not suitable for the weather. 

Some people carried handbags, but Narcissa felt silly carrying a handbag simply to carry one and she had nothing to put in a handbag. She would be carrying the list today, but it made more sense to put those two pieces of paper in her cloak pocket, especially when she would be giving one to her mother. Maybe when she was older she would want to carry a handbag. Maybe when she had a wand.

Twenty minutes passed quickly; as soon as her mother arrived downstairs Narcissa handed her Bella’s note. Druella looked at it and seemed surprised, but quickly summoned a house elf, passing the note off and instructing to send those things immediately. Maybe she should have passed the note on earlier; maybe it had been more important than she thought. She did not dwell on it, a quick tug later and they were in Diagon Alley. It was a shopping day! Shopping days were always good. Even if side along made her feel a bit nauseated. 

Bella had suggested a couple of books, and so the pair headed to Flourish and Blott’s first. Narcissa was glad to get it out of the way because it was one of her least favorite stores. She liked reading fine but both her sisters had their noses constantly in books, and Narcissa would not list it in her five favorite activities. Maybe not even the top ten. But books were always a good present for her sisters, and generally they were not something relatives would purchase for them. She had no plans to give them to her sisters; she would pick them out and then they could give them to each other. 

Her mother suggested Twilfit and Tatting next, to get Bella a new pair of gloves. Gloves were not on the list, but Cissa knew that going to a clothing store meant she would walk out with something for herself. Upon entering the store Narcissa left her mother’s side, she would not be needed to pick out gloves, and the spring look books were already out. She could pre-order some spring outfits if she liked anything well enough. 

Narcissa carefully scanned the look books from her favorite couple of designers, and with some assistance, ordered two complete spring outfits. Soon, look books would be sent to their residence and she would pick out more clothing, but it pleased her to know that she would be marked down as having pre-ordered these two outfits already. Everyone who was anyone who came into the shop would know where the Black family had put their money. Her own name might not hold much clout in the world of fashion, yet. She would have to rely on her surname for now. One day it would be because she, specifically, had done it, but it was satisfying enough for now to know she was indirectly influential. More then an hour passed before the pair left the store. Druella picked out the gloves for Bellatrix adding to it a lovely emerald green scarf.

It was a quick stop into Ollivanders next, because Bellatrix had requested some sort of wand polishing something or other. Narcissa had not realized people polished their wands, but she was all too happy to stop by Ollivanders no matter the reason. Soon enough she would be coming back to get her own wand. There were some beautiful ones laying out on the counter, and Narcissa started imagining a delicate birch one as her own. 

Ollivanders was only a quick stop. There was no reason to look at anything else once the polish was purchased, unlike the other stores. Narcissa still dragged her feet a bit as they left. May, she reminded herself; she only had to wait until May. But that was still seven months away!

“Shall we stop by the jewelry store before or after lunch?” Druella asked, drawing Narcissa out of her wand thoughts.

“Before,” Narcissa said. As if there was another choice. Before meant she would have even longer to admire whatever it was they bought for themselves. Before meant they would get to show those things off while at Fortescue’s. Mother seemed pleased with her answer.

Something surprising was that Bellatrix had _requested_ jewelry. Surprising, but thrilling! The jewelry store was one of Cissa’s favorites, for many of the same reasons she liked Twilfit and Tattings, and then some. Everything sparkled and shimmered, and she was allowed to try on anything she wanted, including one of the priceless wedding tiaras. The saleswoman told her it was a good look on her, something Cissy had no doubt. But she had no need for a tiara, as pretty as it was, not to mention they already had family heirlooms worth far more should she require one.

Bella’s taste in jewelry was not the same as Cissa’s, and nothing Bella requested were things Cissa would wear. But then, an onyx pendant would not work with her coloring, she was too fair and fair-haired. It would look nice on her sister, matching Bella’s darker hair and eyes. Being that the request list was merely a guideline, Narcissa also picked out a bracelet that could make a nice matching set with the pendant, but was also lovely on it’s own. The bracelet was a little more to her own tastes, but if she bought her sister something she would also wear, then she could borrow it later on. 

Her and her mother hardly were going to leave the jewelry store without buying something for themselves either. Once Narcissa had seen the jewelry on Bella’s list she had evaluated what she needed next in her personal jewelry collection. She had all the basics, all the things appropriate and necessary for a girl her age. She wanted pearls like her mother, but that was not something young girls wore. That was something for married women, and frankly, she rather hoped she would inherit her mother’s strands.

Eventually, she had decided it was time for new earrings. She had a new dress that really needed a new set to go along with it, and now she had pre-ordered those spring dresses, which meant she needed more than one pair. So while her mother browsed necklaces, Narcissa tried on earrings, carefully evaluating the selection before finally settling on a pair of tiny gold and diamond starbursts, and a pair of sapphire waterfall earrings. When the saleswoman told her she had excellent taste, Narcissa was pleased, even if the lady probably told that to everyone. At least in this instance it was absolutely true. Druella picked out a couple of broaches for herself, along with one of the necklaces she had been eyeing, and an old fashioned locket was picked out for Andromeda. 

Lunching at Fortescue’s was always a treat. For one, she was guaranteed ice cream, and as far back as she could remember, ice cream had been a favorite of hers. Secondly, there were always lots of people; they were bound to run into someone they knew. Thirdly, it meant spending quality time with her mother, who would ask her what was going on in her life. They would discuss their purchases, current fashions, and other tidbits they never seemed to have an opportunity for at home. Lastly, they always got a preferred table, and those were tables of importance and people paid attention to them. Plus the food was good, and she got to choose what she wanted to eat. If she wanted, she could order fish and chips. 

Druella ordered a cup of crécy soup to be followed by the filet of sole with lemon and capers. Despite looking the entire menu over and seeing a lot of things she would like, Narcissa settled on the exact same thing. Druella ordered a cheese course for them as well, and at Fortescue’s the only dessert worth having was the ice cream. There were other choices but it made no sense to go to the best ice cream maker in Britain and not have the ice cream. Once they had finished with their main meal, they browsed the flavors of ice cream, ending up with a chocolate fudge sundae for Druella (who knew whatever she ordered was bound to be shared with her daughter), and a raspberry cone with hundreds-and-thousands for Narcissa. She was very careful not to get any ice cream drips on her dress; that would be a disaster.

After lunch, there was only a little more shopping to do. Most of the things that made up the package had already been purchased, but they did have to pick out a nice bit of stationary to write a birthday message and some birthday sweets. All things sent home with the house elves, which would be in charge of wrapping it all up together and getting it to the post. A package like this would be too big for their family owls to carry.

The last bit of present was something that Narcissa had no idea about until they went through the door of Quality Quidditch Supplies. Narcissa rested her chin on the counter as Druella flipped through the pages of the brooms catalog. A beautiful new model had come out recently, and Druella and Cygnus had discussed sending one to their eldest. First years may not have been allowed broomsticks, the girls did not need to travel on broomsticks, and it was rather unladylike, but they could still own broomsticks. Not a Quidditch broom, but one for recreational flying. It was a time-honored tradition, ever since the dawn of magic. And whether or not the broom was for Quidditch, the Quidditch store still had the best contacts in the broomstick industry. Druella made sure to put in a custom wood request, mahogany. An excellent status present even if Bellatrix never used it. Narcissa thought her sister would probably use it.  It was too pretty to not use. Not using it meant never showing it off. That went against Bella’s nature.

The day ended with a quick stop at Madam Primpernelle’s for Druella to pick up a new bottle of her signature perfume. Cissa thought Madam Primpernelle’s was probably her third favorite shop, after jewelry. Everything smelled so nice and she loved testing the perfumes. A quick dab of each of them as she worked her way down the line, and up her arms. One day, she would be old enough to pick out a signature scent, but that was going to be further in the future than a wand choosing her. Neither of her sisters had a signature scent yet. Truthfully, she was not entirely sure when that milestone happened, when she had asked about it, she was told she was too young.

The nicest thing about perfume testing came after they returned home, after her mother headed back to her correspondence, after the day had ended and everything had been wrapped up and she was back to where she started, alone. The smells remained. Not forever, just for a while, and despite knowing the perfume would fade away, while it remained on her arm, she felt less alone.


	25. The Morning of the Dragon

While at Hogwarts, Bella did not miss home, and usually was so busy she did not think of missing her sister. Only if she thought and wondered about Narcissa did she. Missing her sisters was not something she remembered doing a lot of last year. It was not as if Bella did not love her sisters. She did, dearly. But she had seven classes to go to, study for, and generally occupy her time. When she was not doing class work, she had Isolde, the boys, Isolde dragging her off to spend time with Bernadette (who she also did not miss if she did not think about it), and the other second year Slytherin girls. 

If that was not enough, Bella spent a lot of time scheming up ways to increase her power at Hogwarts. Being an underclassman was apparently supposed to mean she was to play second fiddle to the older students, but that was not something that sat well with her.

This year, some of the newly made seventh years did not want her and her friends continuing to sit in the chairs she wrangled the year before. That was an understatement. Almost all, if not all, the seventh years resented the idea of second years having chairs, and took them back, presenting them to older friends and acquaintances. When it happened, Bellatrix wanted to attack right there and then, that was _her_ chair, she had a _right_ to it. No way she was giving it up. It took all Isolde’s strength, weight, and pleading to prevent Bella from launching herself at the people in question. Luckily, the boys had been close and Rodolphus, who was easily a head taller, grabbed Bella around the waist and forcibly dragged her off the best he could, merely grunting when she hit him or she landed a well-placed kick.

“You do realize they have five years of magical experience on you,” Evan said, looking incredulous.

“I’m a Black! Generations of magical ability on my side! I’ll make them pay!”

Rodolphus smirked at the glare on her face, “You’ll get yourself sent to the hospital wing.”

“Their parents will have their heads if they openly attacked me. I’d write Narcissa, she’d bring it up innocently at a party and they’d be buggered for sure.”

Isolde’s face paled at Bella’s language, but she said nothing. The seat was nice, but it was not worth fighting a losing duel over.

“Shut it, Bellatrix,” Lucius ordered, silent until now. “If anything like that is to work long term, we need to do it properly so we won’t have to do this again next week, or next month, or next year. Once.”

It was hard to argue with that. They did want the chairs long term, or at least until they could upgrade. What good was getting them if they had to keep fighting for them? By the end of the afternoon, they had concocted a plan. Much to Bellatrix’ dismay, the first part of the plan was to wait for a couple of days. Let the seventh years think they had won. 

However, it was a plan likely to be effective, and Bella was pleased that she was going to be in the thick of it. Her and Rodolphus knew the nastiest spells of the five of them, having spent the summer months practicing on the house elves to find out exactly what they could do at their level, which meant her and Rodolphus got to initiate taking back the chairs. It did mean that she was in the most danger to be hit with something, but that was part of the plan. Her and Isolde needed to be sent to the hospital wing because according to society they were the most defenseless and so it would be more shameful for the seventh years to hurt them. (Isolde was against this part of the plan, even after she had been convinced to go along with it. There seemed no other way to ensure their success without minor injury. She hoped the seventh years would remember that they were fighting second years and did not cause anyone major injury.)

If all of them ended up in the infirmary, that was fine, it kept with the letter of the plan. Evan would come to Rodolphus’ aid and Lucius would catalog everything, sending it off in an owl to his family in horror. Lucius had easily talked himself into this position because he knew what days his father would be home and they needed their message to fall into appropriate hands as fast as possible. Of course, they would each write their family in time, but the fact Lucius’ family would get it so fast would give them a leg up; he would be seen as an impartial observer and who was going to argue with the Malfoys?

They ate dinner, satisfied with their own genius, although Lucius kept reminding them to look more downtrodden in case people were paying attention.

A couple of days later, while most of the seventh years were in class, Rodolphus and Bellatrix took back their chairs, getting comfortable and prepared. Lucius set himself up over in a corner as if he was studying and Isolde sat down next to him, as if she was writing letters. Evan browsed the bookcase nearest the door. All of them had come in separately so others would not think they were up to something. But many of the other students seemed aware something was going to happen. Second years were generally not so brazen. Some left to avoid the conflict, and others moved position so as to not miss anything.

When the seventh years returned, they were not pleased to see the two sitting in chairs not allotted to them. Not angry to do anything about it, yet, the people with claims on the chairs were currently missing from the common room. Hopefully the second years would get up and leave when they arrived.

Rod and Bella exchanged a look, neither of them had any intention of waiting around. There had to be something they could do to provoke the seventh years that seemed innocent enough.

Bella pointed her wand at Rodolphus’ chair, clearly speaking a charm for color changing and in a second, the chair turned a violent shade of maroon. She tried to suppress her giggles, but not very hard because she wanted to get the attention of the seventh years. Rod quickly picked up on the idea and returned the favor. A few rounds back and forth, and the other students were glancing over every couple of seconds, annoyance written into their brow lines.

Eventually one of the older students spoke up, “What do you think you’re doing?”

Bella tilted her head to look at him with a straight face. “Studying.” There was nothing respectful about her tone and several of the older students reacted physically to it. When she turned back to Rod, the look passed between them indicated they had the exact same idea. Rodolphus raised his wand, and with the same spell, hit the chair the boy who asked was sitting in. Bellatrix dissolved into giggles.

That did it, the seventh year headed over, red-faced in his rage, screaming about how they needed to learn their place.

Rodolphus answered well, “I believe our place is those chairs,” indicating the chairs the older boy’s friends were sitting in.

The seventh year shot off a spell, hitting Rodolphus’ chair. “That was your warning. _Move._ ”

“We have more of a right to be here than you do,” Bellatrix counted. “Although even if you could trace your surname back to before Hogwarts, I’m sure we’d find your ancestor was Salazar’s servant rather than his peer.”

A red bolt of light left the seventh year’s wand, flipping both Bellatrix and her chair over backward. Isolde did not need to fake worry as she screamed and ran to see if her friend was all right. Rodolphus retaliated immediately. Bellatrix was fine, the stunner had hit the chair rather than her, and while it caused her quite the fall, she was only slightly shaken. Quickly, she entered the fray, Isolde tugging on her right arm – so as to allow her to keep hexing. A few more seventh years stood up to help their friend, and Evan dropped the book he had been looking at, rushing over to help his. Soon the air was fairly thick with spells.

When Bella saw her chance, she twisted, flinging Isolde into the path of something that made her collapse to the floor. Seeing the unarmed girl fall, one of the younger prefects sprinted out of the room to get Slughorn. With that taken care of, even if it was something she had not warned Isolde about – but Isolde had to be safer on the floor than holding onto her, Bellatrix sent off a few more obnoxious hexes. She had stopped bothering trying to dodge anything coming her way, instead shrieking bloody murder any time she got hit.

Soon after, Slughorn came hurrying in, shouting at everyone to stop, freezing everyone who failed to immediately follow orders. When the dust and smoke cleared, the head of Slytherin house was shocked and appalled. Two second-year girls from prominent families lay on the floor, one bleeding and shrieking her head off, the other possibly unconscious. Two more injured looking second years were standing with wands drawn. Four seventh years stood, wands drawn with superficial injuries only. It looked as if the second years had been trying to defend themselves, although why they would _need to_ was unclear. Slughorn was determined to get answers.

“You four. My office. Now.” The seventh years with wands drawn headed that direction while Slughorn got the second years to the infirmary safely. Once they were in the hands of Pomfrey, he hurried back to deal with the troublemakers. In the confusion, Lucius Malfoy headed to the owlery, his version of events quickly winging its way to his parents. He was far from the only one. Several other students put their observations to paper shortly after, only if to assure their parents (who would surely hear about it) that they had nothing to do with it other than being a witness.

In the hospital wing, Isolde was quickly revived, Rodolphus and Evan fixed up. Isolde had been mostly right about the seventh years, despite them being angry they had not used the worst spells they knew. Nothing to cause any of them to spend the night in the infirmary. The minute Rodolphus and Evan were declared fine, they asked for quill and parchment. Pomfrey was too busy handling Bellatrix to bother with why. Bellatrix was refusing help until she saw her sister, babbling on about how Andy needed to be warned, what if they tried to attack her. She was still trickling blood from a cut on her head, and fighting the nurse tooth and nail at every attempt deal with it. Eventually Pomfrey gave in, sending an assistant to get Andromeda Black while she wrote up the paperwork and kept an eye on her patients. Healing tended to work better when the patient was not fighting it.

“Why do you want Andromeda?” Isolde whispered.

“She’ll be shocked and write home and it’ll be more believable.”

Isolde nodded, and explained to the boys on the other side of her. They thought it was an excellent idea, another letter would be helpful and Bellatrix was only bleeding a little bit.

Luckily, Andromeda’s teacher agreed to her being dragged out of her class. The girl tore along the corridors to the hospital wing the minute she was excused.

“Bella?” she asked worriedly, ready to give her big sister a hug, recoiling when she saw the damage. “What happened? You’re bleeding! And your hair smells singed!”

“Some of the seventh years attacked us. I wanted you safe in here.”

“What? Who? You should write Mother and Father.”

“Madam Pomfrey has to fix me up first.”

“Well, I’ll write them while she does that. They need to know right away. Tell me exactly what happened.”

Bellatrix did not bother to embellish the story even a little, it sounded horrible enough as it was (plus all the stories needed to match), giving her the names of all the seventh years who “attacked” her. Andromeda sat on Isolde’s cot scribbling away while Pomfrey cleaned Bella’s cuts, trimmed her hair so the ends were no longer smoldering, and put the other minor spell damage to rest. They were all told they needed to take it easy for a while, and Pomfrey wanted to watch them for a bit, just in case, so she held them through dinnertime. Long enough for all of them to write letters and have them sent off. By the time they had finished dinner, it was not only all of Slytherin who knew what happened, a very conspicuous Lucius Malfoy eating all by himself making it all the more obvious, but most of the school, and five of the most prominent families in wizarding England. 

None of their parents were pleased to say the least, the month of detention Slughorn gave the seventh years stretched into two overnight, and a reserve Quidditch player was kicked off the team entirely. The howlers that came the following week noted the societal repercussions were only beginning. Bellatrix was overly satisfied with herself, settling back into her rightful chair watching the angry twitches from the seventh years. They were added proof of her victory.


	26. And Things Will Change

Two and a half months into her first year at Hogwarts, with her birthday next week, Andromeda took stock. School gave her something to do for more hours of the day than she was used to. Before coming to Hogwarts, she never had so many scheduled hours, they had been left up to their own devices except for the odd day or night when some social thing took place. Here, she had a schedule. Breakfast, classes, lunch, classes, tea, do homework, supper, more homework or socializing, sometimes both, and then bed. It was standard and set, day in and day out. There was something nice and orderly to it, she always knew what was happening.

Often, in the evenings she wrote Narcissa. It was not something she could do every day, but she made sure to do it at least once a week. She remembered what it was like to be left at home while Bella was off at school and figured it was worse for her younger sister because she did not have anyone but their parents. And Andy knew from personal experience Bella was not good at writing. Her older sister had her own priorities, and only wrote when she felt like it, usually when she deemed something important. Like when the seventh years attacked her and she wanted Cissy to be sure to bring it up. Bella was nothing if not strategic. Andromeda was fairly certain her sister had instigated the attack, although no one seemed to want to say so, if that was the case.

But it was also helpful to her in a way. People were starting to recognize Bellatrix and her friends as a force to be reckoned with. Old money, older families, and they all worked it to their advantage. It worked out well for Andromeda. As a younger sister, she got the benefits without the work. Not one of the older Slytherins tried to haze her, at least not yet, and if she sat closer to the fire than she really should, no one complained. Not after Bella and her friends had staged that incident over the chairs. Which Andromeda guessed might not have been completely staged, there was no proof other than word versus word, and Bella and her friends had surnames on their side, throwing it in their favor. Their satisfaction over getting something they clearly wanted made Andy think that it had not really been an attack, at least in the way she thought of an attack.

Bella’s efforts to better her position at Hogwarts kept her busy, and in a way, it made Andy lonely. She liked the other girls in her dorm, and her and Briony were quite close, but she hardly got to see her sister. It was not quite how she pictured Hogwarts. She thought she would see Bella all the time, and they would both write to Cissa frequently (she had promised Narcissa she would write, and she would make Bella write). All while learning new things. She did a lot of learning, but the other things did not happen often. It was a bit as if things would never be the same as it was when they had all been at home together.

And, she had not factored in homework. When Bellatrix had come home waving her wand and speaking incantations, it seemed glamorous and easy. She had been excited to learn spells and potions. She would go to Hogwarts and she would be able to do the same thing, not knowing she would spend hours doing homework for all those classes. Or she would habitually fall asleep in a class because of how it was taught. She wanted to like History of Magic because it was the history of herself, theoretically, being part of a longstanding magical family, but Binns’s voice lulled her to sleep as often as not. There was a lot more work involved in getting a magical education than she assumed there would be. It was not merely showing up and waving her wand.

School took most of her time, but when she was not busy with school, Slytherin house seemed to have a constant stream of social events happening in the common room. They were supposed to be casual, but that was a relative term. They mattered a great deal. The one night she chose not to attend, deciding to not bother putting in an appearance in favor of homework, it had started rumors that she did not like the person who had arranged it. In her mind, that sort of logic was ridiculous. How could someone arrange a get together in a room they all shared every minute of every day? And then to be insulted that someone else had homework to do? Especially when that someone was only a first year! Despite knowing what sort of weight her surname carried, she had not realized the weight of her surname. Now, she made sure to make an appearance for everything.

Then there were all the times she was mistaken for Bellatrix, something that had never happened until she got to Hogwarts. When she thought about it, she realized it must be hard for the teachers, who had them back to back. And they looked so much alike. But it was annoying to be called her sister’s name. She was not Bellatrix, no matter how much she looked like her. Her hair was not curly for one big giant obvious thing. Their eyes were slightly different colors. Bella was taller. Andy quieter. 

It was not only teachers, other students did it often as well. Sometimes it was fine because it meant someone would leave her alone when she did not want to be bothered and was usually busy anyway. But sometimes she felt alienated. Everyone seemed to assume she was a little Bellatrix and she was not. She had her own personality and thoughts and feelings! Sometimes she wanted to scream at people that she was very clearly not her older sister! But, it was nice to be recognized as Bella’s sister, especially since Bella was often too busy to spend time with her. It was also partly a pride thing; it identified her as a Black, as someone to be reckoned with, as someone who would not carry books back to the dorms for anyone but herself. Bella had made herself known and Andromeda benefited, but she wished people would remember she was Andy, not Bella. She was a Black in her own right after all.

The other completely unexpected thing was the mudbloods. She had wanted to ask a mudblood where they got their magic but there were a few problems with that. She tended to be busy and kept forgetting until she was in Slytherin house where there were no mudbloods to ask. Even if she went out into the corridors looking for one there was no guarantee she could identify one. They were in school robes exactly like her. There was no mark identifying them as a mudblood. Which had to be why her parents warned her so strongly about them. They looked like she did! Even on weekends, when people did not wear their school uniforms. Purebloods wore robes still so it was easy enough to identify her people, but most of the other students wore pretty much the same things. There was no way to tell a mudblood from a halfblood from a pureblood who grew up surrounded by muggles (which apparently some did!).

She had yet to ask a mudblood where their magic came from, and now knowing they looked just as she did, she was worried to do so. Provided she figured out who was a mudblood, what if they tried something when all she wanted was a simple answer to a question. Her parents said they were dangerous. What if they tried to steal her magic? How would she know? They clearly did things as she did them; however she did not know how to steal magic so she could not look for what she would do. And if she could not do it, how could they? She was starting to rethink, and possibly abandon her plan completely, but she still wanted answers.

It was possible the answer would be in a book, but how would she have time to look for it? There was always so much schoolwork, she had not figured out how to fit in pleasure reading, much to her displeasure. It was better now than at the very start, she was falling into more of a routine, but she was unsure if she would ever fall into a routine where she would be able to do research like that. Plus she wanted to join some of the clubs, or at least she was thinking of joining them. It would stop people from asking her to join the clubs they were involved with, which would be nice. She did not want to be anyone’s status prize, but she also did not want to be chased. The only thing stopping her so far was time issues. If she joined would severely decrease any time she would have for researching mudbloods. Although it was not as if she had time now.

Not to mention she should not be researching mudbloods to begin with. They were dangerous. Everyone said so. It came from trusted sources and she should trust in that.

On top of all that, Andy was worried about her birthday next week. It was going to be difficult, or at least different, but it felt like it would be difficult because it would be different. Last year she had gone to Diagon Alley and picked out school supplies on her birthday. The next day they had a party, everyone had been invited; there had been cake and ice cream and it had been lovely. Her birthday was the one day she did not mind being the center of attention and having everyone’s eyes on her. Normally, that was uncomfortable; she knew drawing attention could be very bad. Bellatrix drew attention to herself and their father hated that. Better to blend in. But birthdays were special. It was all right on her birthday.

But with her birthday falling during the school year, even though her birthday fell on a Saturday, there could be no party. No classes would be held, but that did not mean there would be a party, unless someone threw her one in the common room. The only person she could see doing that was Bellatrix, and she could not see Bella throwing a party in the common room. Bella had not thrown herself a party, and Andy had no idea how to throw a party. Bella had no cake and ice cream either, nothing special on the Slytherin table for the occasion. Andromeda assumed it would be the same for her birthday. 

It was disappointing. She would get a lovely package of presents from home. Bellatrix received a beautiful box filled with goodies, including caldron cakes (not the same as birthday cake, but better than nothing) and Honeydukes chocolates, along with presents from Narcissa and their parents. Including a broomstick, which was not something Andromeda could get. She would not get anything that big, but it would be nice to see what they picked out for her. Even if there was no cake and ice cream. Unless she ordered it from the house elves, which was something that people could do. It was not like a restaurant, which would be too complicated with all the different students. However, if someone found their way into the kitchens, the house elves were only too happy to oblige with any request.

The problem with this was Andromeda had no idea where the kitchens were, but it sounded like a good thing to figure out, even more important than her mudblood research. Cake and ice cream for her birthday counted as more important. And maybe, just maybe, she could make Bellatrix come with her and they could have a teeny tiny party, just the two of them in the kitchens with cake and ice cream. Time with her sister and birthday cake sounded almost better than any party anyone could throw her.

She had a week. That was enough time to work out the details and make it happen. That was what she wanted.


	27. Raising Up Little Gentlemen

Walburga knew her boys needed proper dance lessons. Sirius would be seven this year, next year he would be plenty old enough to take part in more of the adult activities. Maybe she should have started already, but he clearly needed them now, and if she was getting a private tutor for Sirius, she might as well have him teach Regulus. He was not much younger than his older brother.

While the younger half of pureblood society might have spent a lot of time at parties out of sight from adults and under the watchful eyes of house elves, that did not mean they spent all the time in seclusion away from the adults. No childish horseplay in front of the entirety of society. Although it was not allowed in the children’s areas either.

All society children had dance lessons at one point or another. One could not rely on instinct alone. Dancing was a high society skill. Everyone danced at parties and balls, an integral part of events, until one got very old and sat along the sides judging those who were dancing. At dinner parties, when dancing was expected after dinner, the older children were expected to dance and act as adults would. It was an important part of courtship, once the children got into eligible ages. Not being able to dance was not an option. Walburga was certainly not going to have her sons look stupid in front of society. 

She had called in a dance master from France to teach them. Nothing but the best. Over the holidays she would have their older cousins to practice with them. The fact that Narcissa was almost a full four years older than her eldest did not deter Walburga from making plans. Her nieces would not say no. Family assisted one another. The girls had lessons when they were younger, probably kept them up with an odd lesson here and there. Every so often someone would host a dance affair for the children and have a teacher there, keeping up with the steps was almost as important as learning them.

Walburga looked forward to attending such events with her sons. It was a good way to see which of the girls their age were getting the right sort of preparation. If someone waited too long to teach their children to dance, chances were the family was having family or monetary troubles. Those sorts of things had to be kept into consideration when thinking about future courtships. The younger generation did not think about these things, which was part of the reason she was slightly disappointed arranged marriages had fallen out of vogue. Luckily, most listened to their parents, and it was easy enough to push the right two together. Even if not made through betrothals and parental agreements, such suggestions generally ended up in marriage.

Something to start thinking about now. She was certainly not going to suggest any girls whose families were struggling. Many of the top notch families had a serious lack of girls this generation. The Malfoys only had Lucius, The Lestranges had two sons, no daughters. There were the two Nott girls, but the oldest was Bellatrix’s age, too old for Walburga’s sons. The younger girl was something to consider, and the Rosiers had a couple of girls, but they had just married into the family so that relationship needed no strengthening. There were other top families, and other families not quite in the top notch, but who might be worthy of a step up through marriage. Walburga was not ruling them out yet. It was just unfortunate that Druella’s daughters would likely marry into all the best families and there were fewer choices for Walburga’s arguably more important sons.

But there was time to think it over. First step was to teach her sons to dance. The dance master she hired refused to let her into the ballroom to watch the lesson. She had been forced to position herself outside the ballroom in hopes of hearing what was going on. Sadly, the walls were quite thick.

Inside, Sirius was making faces. He was not interested in dancing. The dancing master had brought charmed life sized dolls to dance with and they were the creepiest things Sirius had ever seen. He did not want to touch them. They looked like people but with dead eyes. Because they were not people, they were dolls. 

Both dolls had ringlets pulled off their faces with giant bows. None of his cousins ever did something so ridiculous with their hair and Narcissa even liked bows. The last time she had done her hair in bouncy curls he had spent a lot of time pulling her hair because it was fun. But he had no desire to see if these dolls did the same because they were gross. At least he had gotten the one with the blue sash, forcing the doll in pink on his younger brother. Boys did not wear pink or have pink things or even touch pink. Pink was for girls. It was a bad color. He was happy to have the one with the blue sash, because that was the color for boys.

However, it did not make him _want_ to learn to dance. Dancing looked boring. He had not seen much dancing but what he had seen was boring and did not have enough running and jumping. Learning to dance was going to be awful but apparently he _had_ to. And he had to do it with Regulus who always followed the rules. No fun. He knew his mother was waiting outside and if he misbehaved she would not hesitate to spank him in front of the dancing master. Being spanked in front of people he did not know was the worst. He did not mind the spanking so much, because generally the things he did to get swatted made it worth it, as long as it was only spanking. But when it happened in front of other people, it embarrassed him, making it one of the few things his parents could threaten that incited good behavior in him. Or as close to good behavior as he got.

Regulus was happy to learn to dance. It was something everyone learned to do and he needed to learn in order to fit in with everyone. Plus, his mother told him if he started now he would be one of the best dancers when he got the chance to dance with other people. Acceptable. Even at his young age, he needed things to be just so, needed to do things the absolute best possible, and generally was not pleased unless it went exactly as he imagined it would. If he learned dancing now, he would have time to perfect it before anyone saw.

However, the dolls left much to be desired; they were clearly old and not in a good, this is a family antique sort of way. They looked dirty, as if thousands of hands had touched them every year they had been used. He was concerned about touching them and getting dirty. The dresses were not a pristine white, not the way they should be. That meant dirt, dust and all sorts of germs from people who were not _him_. It was upsetting but he tried to not let it show on his face because that was rude and he wanted to make his mother proud. He had to be polite. Talking down was acceptable (but probably not for this situation because this was a teacher who had knowledge he needed) but he had to treat people as their status dictated. Being outright rude to people for no reason was considered poor taste, even for a Black.

However, being polite meant he was not only going to have to touch one of the dolls but dance with one. He was going to need a very through bath after this was done. Maybe at some point he could sneak out and wash his hands. But they would get dirty again. Perhaps better to simply scrub them well at the end of the lesson. And, if he left Sirius in here by himself, something was likely to be destroyed. His brother could not be left to his own devices. Normally he did not think about it, but the teacher was a guest and they were representing the family. 

Knowing he would be working with boys under ten, the dancing master had purposefully brought older dolls. He had newer ones, but when it came to beginning lessons, it did not make sense. Young boys were never very careful, and even being a sought after dance instructor did not give him galleons to burn each time a doll was broken. Not to mention dancing lessons seemed to have grown a bit out of style, or there were fewer families to teach. He could not be entirely sure, maybe it was a downswing, maybe in a generation there would be more. The dolls were in perfect working order, never repaired, merely outdated outfits.

“Stand in front of your partners,” he instructed. “The first thing to learn is how to bow. It must be perfect in order to impress young ladies. Now, left hand behind your back.” He waited until they did as they were told, making the needed corrections. Improper habits must be cut out immediately, giving them no chance to fester. 

“Right hand across your waist, in front of your waistband.” He demonstrated, and the boys had an easier time mimicking being able to see it.

“Bend at the waist to a forty-five degree angle. You could show respect by bowing lower, but forty-five is acceptable for your place in society.”

Neither boy had any idea what that meant, and when they attempted it, the teacher quickly told them to stand back up to watch him as he demonstrated. Their second try was a slightly better, but only just. He made sure to show them exactly what it meant, exactly how it felt in order to understand it better. Once that was completed, he set them up to practice in front of the dolls. If done correctly, the dolls would curtsy in response. They had to complete twenty-five correct bows in order to move on with the lesson.

Sirius was out of his mind bored. Bowing was not dancing. Bowing was even more boring than dancing. And he knew how to do it already. He had to do it at events, bow at his aunts, uncles, and other relatives he never remembered the names of. But he was having a hard time getting the doll to curtsy, even though he was doing it right! The doll was broken! 

Regulus was pleased dancing was so specific. Do things in a very specific way, and, if done correctly, absolutely perfectly, a specific response happened. It was all very neat and clean and orderly, exactly how he liked it. Plus, so far, he had not needed to touch the dolls. He was sure that soon he would have to, because after they finished bowing, they would need to learn how to actually dance, and that meant touching. 

It took a long time, and Regulus finished first. Sirius had a hard time repeating the same thing over and over with no variety. Eventually the task was complete, and the dance instructor was confident they would get it right next time. He moved on.

“Take your right hand and put it around your partner’s waist,” he instructed.

This took way more time than planned. Sirius pretended he had no idea how to do what was requested, as if he had never seen anyone dance before in his life. He knew he was bound to get corrected anyway, why bother trying? Regulus would do that. Sirius had every intention of letting the teacher put his hand where it needed to be and then he would be right the first time. Plus it was entertaining to watch the teacher holding back his annoyance with him. He was not being rude so he could not be punished. It was hardly his fault if he did not know how to put his arm around a doll’s waist. 

Regulus was angry that his brother was messing around. It meant he had to stand and touch the doll for longer than necessary. Luckily, the doll felt clean, not gross, nothing gritty or dirty under his fingertips, but it did not completely alleviate his worries.

When they were both finally in the right position, the instructor had them take the doll’s right hand in their left hand. As Regulus did that, the doll put her left hand on his shoulder, and he almost jumped out of his skin. His cheeks burned with embarrassment as he realized he should have expected that. It put another pause in the lesson because Sirius burst out laughing and they had to wait for him to calm down. Once they were back in position, the instructor checked their hands and stances, and then told them to let go of the dolls because they needed to practice bowing and then taking the doll in their arms. Sirius groaned audibly, more repetition. Regulus got straight to work in order to show he had this under control and that the doll would not make him jump again.

While they were only going over the basics today, the instructor was determined to make sure those basics were perfected. Sirius applied himself a bit more this time around, meaning they moved on faster, despite his sighing and moaning.

“The most important thing in dancing is to remember that you must lead, you are in charge. Your partner will follow you. You must be a strong leader, or be failures at dancing. You will learn to lead, because my dolls will not dance unless you do. First, step forward with your left foot, towards your partner.” 

Each did so, and the dolls moved backwards.

“Correct. Your partner counters the step. Now, with your right foot, step to the side.”

Again, the boys followed orders beautifully, dolls mirroring their actions.

“Now bring your left foot next to your right foot. Close together because you are gentlemen.”

That was accomplished easily enough until the next bit. When he told them to repeat the three steps starting with the right foot, neither boy could figure it out before the teacher taught them they needed to put their weight on their left foot when they brought it in. Then their right foot would be free to move. The boys were able to repeat the steps from side to side then. It was not graceful, or smooth, and Regulus kept looking at his feet to ensure he was doing it properly, but the beginnings of a waltz were underway.

Until it was perfected, they would practice. Another hour of the same, over and over and over again. Once the steps started to flow, he made them practice the entire sequence, starting with the bow. Around the end of the lesson, he put on a waltz so they could attempt it to music, a whole new challenge.

Sirius liked the music part. Before that, it was boring repetition. If it was not right, the doll would not move, and he would have to repeat it. It was frustrating. He was pretty sure the doll was too old to respond properly, or it was a lazy charm, or something. But when the music came on, he focused better, not that it made it _fun_. It did _not_. He had not enjoyed himself, at all. The whole time was excruciating and he needed to get out and run and yell and get on his broomstick and pelt the house elves with snowballs.

Regulus was also happy to hear the music. It made the exercise feel more like dancing; he found a rhythm to it when the music started. It made it easier and he did not need to stare at his feet so much, he could look at the doll’s face, just like he would if he was dancing with a real person. But he was still pleased when their teacher turned off the music and excused them for the day, saying he would be back in a few days and they ought to practice because forgetting would not be tolerated. If the lesson was over, he did not have to touch the doll anymore. Unlike Sirius, who ran pell-mell from the ballroom, clearly headed for the garden, Regulus thanked the instructor properly, and walked past their mother to the bathroom where he scrubbed his hands twice. And then, to be on the safe side, once more.

Walburga, after yelling after Sirius to stop running in the house, entered the ballroom to ask the instructor how it went. He informed her of the details, and how much progress they had made, and then they set up the next few months of lessons – they needed to be planned around the parties that were coming with the Yule season starting. As soon as the instructor left, Walburga sent the house elves after her sons and made them practice in the ballroom so she could personally oversee their achievements.


	28. Floating Down A Broadening River

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Discussion of Puberty, Menstruation, and Bodily Functions - I consider it on the not very graphic side.

* * *

Bellatrix had been putting it off for the entire winter holiday due to embarrassment. Even though she had to. If mother had not told her, she would not tell Andromeda or Narcissa and Bella did not want them learning as she had. More importantly, she did not want them to worry. Her terror was still fresh in her memory and she was determined to prevent that for her sisters. They would know all about it.

That did not make it less embarrassing. Or give her any idea how to talk about it. How did she bring it up in conversation?

Originally her plan was to tell them when they were staying in the same room at Grimmauld Place for the big Yule party. It would have made sense to do it then. But everyone had been so joyful, how was she supposed to bring up something that was, no matter how normal and natural Madam Pomfrey had expressed it to be, gross.

Two nights before their scheduled return to Hogwarts Bella called her sisters together, inviting them into her room. She ordered tea and snacks from the house elves, calling it a secret tea party.

Narcissa dropped what she was doing immediately despite feeling she was getting a little too old for tea parties. (Not events centered around tea because even as an adult she would invite people over for tea, but they would not be tea “parties.”) But she only got to spend so much time with her sisters. Even before Hogwarts, Bella did not invite them into her room. Bella’s room was Bella’s sacred space and no one went in without an invitation, unless risking consequences. 

Andromeda was busy with her homework. She had scheduled it out, a little each day, although she seemed to be the only one busy with schoolwork. She knew this could not be the case, all the teachers had assigned work and so Bella had to have some. She was not dogging her sister’s every step, and Bellatrix had plenty of time to do the work, but she also seemed to constantly have time for other things. Not that Andromeda had not done other things; she had read for pleasure for the first time in months, holiday parties and events, the family’s personal Yule celebration, but she felt like she was constantly worrying about homework. She had not scheduled in Bellatrix having a secret tea party (Bella hated tea parties!) into her plan.

Saying no was not an option. Her slight hesitation caused Cissa to come into her room, insisting Andromeda hurry. Andy could not say no to her baby sister, even if she had wanted to, no matter how frustrating it was watching her carefully laid plans going to waste.

The youngest kept up a lively chatter as the two joined their older sister in her room. Bella remained fairly silent as they got settled on her bed, poured tea, and grabbed biscuits. But she could not stay silent forever; they were here for a purpose. Despite having read the entire book Pomfrey had given her and Isolde a few months before, she was not sure what to say to her sisters. However, she had never shied away from a challenge; she certainly was not going to start now.

Sighing, Bella put her tea down and climbed off the bed, her sisters growing quieter as they watched her. Why would she leave right after they had gotten situated? They looked at each other and saw the same question mirrored in the other’s eyes.

“I have to talk to you about something important,” Bellatrix started. “Things happen when you get older and it can be a bit scary.”

Narcissa’s eyes grew wide. What did she need to be prepared for? She was supposed to be protected from scary things, that was the nice thing about being the youngest. Why would Bella say something scary was going to happen to her? Andromeda was simply confused. She tried to think of a big thing that occurred at thirteen and failed.

Bella nervously sighed again. “When your body decides it’s time, it has to do things to become a woman. You’re girls now, but when you’re my age, your bodies start changing because you’re becoming a woman.” That sounded ridiculous in her head.

“Madam Pomfrey says it’s called puberty, and it’s normal. Every girl goes through it, puberty, every girl goes through puberty. So you don’t need to worry about it, it’s normal, but it can be a little shocking. Like, right before I turned thirteen, I started bleeding.

That statement caused sharp intakes from breath from her sisters. Narcissa looked positively pale, and to steady herself, took a deep gulp of tea. Andromeda followed her sister’s lead. That was a good plan. Tea was calming.

“It’s part of becoming a woman, the bleeding…” Bella trailed off, unsure. She needed to tell them where they would bleed, but the words the book used, her sisters would not understand. What had Pomfrey said to her? “…bleeding between your legs,” she finished lamely. “Into your knickers.”

That did not comfort either of her sisters, and Bella looked at them, lost for what to say. It was all right, she had survived. People did not die from it.

“It’s normal though,” she emphasized again. “It’s supposed to happen. It happens to me every month and I’m fine.”

“ _Every month?_ ” Narcissa questioned quietly.

“Yes.”

“Does it hurt?” Andromeda asked.

“Um, the bleeding doesn’t. It just happens. Sometimes my stomach will hurt at the same time, but it goes away with a pain potion. And it feels better if I use a hot water bottle.”

“If you’re bleeding, does that mean you get injured every month?” Bleeding for no reason did not make sense to Cissa.

“No.” Bella thought for a moment. “Your body is preparing to do something, but if it doesn’t happen, it has to get rid of the stuff.”

Her sisters looked confused. 

“Like… if you plan a party, but you cancel it, and you still have all the decorations that you have to do something with.”

Bellatrix was relieved when that seemed to make sense to them.

“And it happens every month?”

“Every month.”

“What’s it preparing for?” Andromeda asked.

Bella had hoped neither of them would ask that. Mentioning babies meant mentioning sex. That was tough because she did not understand it completely. The book had explained it, and it made sense in theory, like when she read a potion recipe and it seemed straightforward. But it was not something she had personally experienced. It was above her knowledge level. She would not try to explain a potion she could not brew, how could she explain sex?

“Well,” she knitted her brows together. “You can’t mention this to mother and father. I’m not sure if we are supposed to know.”

Her sisters nodded.

Bella continued on the best she could, “It’s a preparation for babies.” As she expected, neither of her sisters had any idea how that worked. It was written all over their faces.

“Babies grow inside girls. So our bodies get ready for them, in advance.”

“When we start bleeding, we start having babies?” Narcissa asked, slightly horrified.

“No!” Bella cried. “No! No, we _could_ have a baby.” How did anyone explain this sort of thing? No wonder their mother had not bothered to mention it. “We just get ready, just in case. You have to have sex to have a baby.

“You have to have sex with a _boy_ for babies. Boys are built differently… between the legs. Like you know how Sirius runs around at the beach without clothes and he looks different because he’s a boy and boys have a…” She paused when it came to describe what that was. She had no intention of using the word penis. She did not like it, it made her wrinkle her nose even thinking about it. Although, she did not like the word vagina much either, better to avoid both.

“a…thingy,” she settled on, waving a couple of her fingers around to illustrate. Her sisters nodded so hopefully that meant they understood. 

“The thingy goes up between a girl’s legs and stuff happens. If it all happens correctly, a baby happens.”

“What?” Andy said. “It goes up between our legs? How?”

Another question Bella had been hoping to avoid. She stared avidly at her duvet as she started to explain, a rising flush on her cheeks. “It goes…inside us…like…we have a hole there…”

Narcissa interrupted. “Where we…” her voice got quiet, “pee?”

“No, a different place. But it’s all down there.” Bella swallowed, thinking, and then gave up, “I’m not entirely sure.”

Both of her sisters knew that if Bella admitted she did not really know, it was kind of a big deal. Usually, she pretended to know things even if she did not, and here she was saying she did not know all the answers to this. As if she was giving them all the information she did have. 

They looked at each other, and Bella shrugged her shoulders, “I have a book you can look at that Madam Pomfrey gave to me.”

Her sisters nodded but the whole thing sounded awful. Bella hoped they had gotten the most important bits of information, at least for now. There were other things she wanted to bring up.

She went over to her school bag to pull some things out. “When you start bleeding, you have to use something to stop it from getting all over your clothes and everything.” Walking back to the bed, she laid out something that looked like a belt, but it had clips, as if it was going to hold something in the middle.

“This goes under your clothes, inside your knickers, when you start bleeding. It’s like a belt, and where those clip things are, you connect a pad, and that collects all the blood and it gets on things less. The pads are reusable, so I just give them to the house elves to wash. Here, I’ll show you how it works.”

Grabbing a pad, she showed them how to connect it to the belt and then demonstrated how it was worn by pulling it on over her clothes. At least that part was pretty self-explanatory, and not too worrying. She took the menstrual belt off and threw it back onto the bed and grabbed the last thing she had pulled out of her book bag. Out of all the stuff she had gotten, it was her favorite bit.

“This is a brassiere,” she announced proudly. “You wear it to support your breasts. It goes under your blouse, a little bit like a slip, but better.”

Her sisters did not seem as impressed as she was hoping. The bleeding had been atrocious, but this part was not scary or bad, this part was enjoyable. Once she and Isolde read the book and learned about developing breasts, Bella was determined to own a brassiere. Her mother had showed no interest in such a thing when Bella asked to go shopping at the very beginning of the holidays. Druella had taken one look at Bella’s chest and said she did not need a bra and her slips would serve her perfectly fine. Luckily, Bella had a luncheon with Isolde and her mother later on that week and they had talked about the changes a girl went through when she was becoming a woman. 

Unknown to Bellatrix, Isolde had written her mother after the bleeding incident, wanting answers. While her mother had not thought to talk about it to her daughter, she was willing to answer questions. Of course, Isolde had wanted Bella there. Out of that discussion, bras had come up, and as an early Yule present, Isolde’s mother had bought both her and Isolde a couple, for when they needed them.

Bella had immediately taken to wearing hers. Her mother was correct; she could have continued relying on slips. By no means did she need a bra, despite starting to develop. But it made her feel grown up, and a little more in control of what was going on in her body. Plus, it was pretty.

“Why is it only the top of a slip?” Narcissa asked, picking up the bra on the bed by one of the straps and looking at it. Her slips that had straps were full slips, they had skirts, but this did not. She had never seen a garment that looked like this. Although she had never gone through her mother’s undergarments, because that was rude, and she had never bought undergarments of her own.

Bella rolled her eyes, and started unbuttoning her blouse, “I’ll show you.” Finished with the buttons, she shrugged out of her blouse and threw it on the bed. “See? It supports your breasts. It’s only like a slip because it’s worn under your clothes.” She turned around so they could see the back of it. 

Her sisters were way more impressed seeing the brassiere on her. Both of them got off the bed to look at it. Andromeda was not entirely sure her sister was actually growing breasts yet; they did not look anything like the front of her mother. But if they had to grow, maybe they were really tiny now. After all, their mother was a lot older than any of them. Narcissa mostly liked how pretty it was, another thing to take into consideration when she planned outfits for the future. 

“How do you know when you need one?” Andy asked, trying to keep the skepticism out of her voice. 

“You get breast buds,” Bella answered confidently, parroting the information from the book, and later confirmed by Isolde’s mother. “It’s kind of like you’ve been bit by a spider, but it stays sore for longer, and then they start growing. I don’t know how long it takes for them to grow, but it can’t be that long, all the older girls at Hogwarts have breasts.”

Her sisters could not refute solid logic. Having shown them the bra and having gotten a good reaction to it, she put her blouse back on. That was everything. The book had talked about growing hair on legs, between legs and under arms but she had no experience with that. She would tell them after she learned about it, and once she figured out what to do about it. None of the women in society went around with hairy legs so they had to do something to prevent it. Scooping up the things she had gotten out to show her sisters, she carefully hid them back in her school bad, and hopped back up on the bed.

“Remember, this is our secret. Everything we talked about. Don’t tell mother and father.”


	29. That Child Becomes a Willow Tree

Come September, Narcissa would not be separated from her sisters. Not that there had been doubt, she was from a magical family and she had performed magic for the first time several years ago. But today was the day the letter would arrive. Today was Narcissa’s eleventh birthday.

Much like her oldest sister, Narcissa had difficulty sleeping on the eve of her birthday. This was an important landmark, much like when she had moved out of the nursery. It was hard to sleep when she knew the next day was going to contain something big. She did try to sleep; because mother said that if she did not sleep she would get dark circles under her eyes and that would be very unattractive, especially with her complexion. She was always going to need to be careful and get enough sleep in order to keep her complexion nice. Potions were no substitute for taking good care of oneself.

Unlike Bellatrix, who had not gotten a wink of sleep the night before, Narcissa kept nodding off, only to wake up suddenly and check to see if it was time to go downstairs for breakfast. Her letter would not come until breakfast at the earliest, and she had no intention of heading downstairs obscenely early to wait for it. She would try to sleep until then. Hopefully she would get enough sleep to prevent the dark circles. After all, she would be shopping in public for several hours.

When her clock read seven am she decided it did not make sense to lie in bed any longer, not if she was not going to truly sleep. Breakfast was in an hour and a half; she needed to get ready. It was a big day, everything needed to be just so. 

Carefully, the eleven year old picked out her clothing, starting with a robin’s egg blue colored shift dress. It had been warm lately, no need for long sleeves. Probably she would not need to pair a cardigan with it at all, although she would bring one in case. The dress had a scoop neck and little cap sleeves, and Narcissa felt it would be appropriate for today’s occasion. Blue was an excellent color for her hair and skin color. Most of the pastel colors were. Her dress had a wide white waistband patterned with little blue flowers, a white eyelet lace collar, and a matching trim in blue along the bottom. Spring like and cheerful and festive. When Bella had seen a picture of it she had said it was a dress for a little girl, but Narcissa knew her older sister had worn the same sort of dresses when _she_ was eleven so who was she to talk?

Narcissa gave a little twirl once she had done up the zipper and fastened the hook and eye at the top. The skirt lifted up and away from her body, forming a wide circle. That would never get old, it was lovely thing dresses did. Once in her dress, she carefully went over her stockings and shoes, debating which ones would be the perfect match for the outfit. After, she methodically brushed her hair out, over one hundred strokes and put in a black headband to keep her hair out of her eyes and off her face. A gold pendant necklace and little pearl earrings completed her ensemble. With a minimum of waiting around, she headed down to breakfast.

A poached egg, toast and melon were waiting for her at her seat. She was the first to the table as she often was. Her parents would come along soon, but until they arrived she had to wait. It would not get cold. The house elves were well trained in timing so the food would be exactly the temperature it was supposed to be. Should her parents not make it down and the food started to get anything less but the perfect temperature, the house elves would whisk away the food on the table and replace it with new food at the temperature it was expected to be.

Not today, both her parents arrived shortly.

Narcissa ate in silence; her father preferred when his daughters did not interrupt his train of thought. Druella was expected to make noises of agreement while Cygnus talked about his plans for the Ministry, or his opinions on the Ministry, or his opinions on anything, but the girls were supposed to be quiet. It was easy for Narcissa, she did not care about the things he talked about. When Bella was home, every once in a while, she would speak up and everything got tense. It did not usually get too bad, obviously her family tended to have the same opinions, but everyone would get very quiet while they waited for Cygnus to decide what to do with Bellatrix speaking out of turn.

No chance of that today. Bellatrix was off at Hogwarts and Narcissa was too busy thinking of the letter winging it’s way to her to pay her father any attention. Sure enough, as she was finishing up her melon, a house elf came in bearing a letter with the Hogwarts seal on a platter for her. She squealed with delight, grabbing the letter, examining it closely as she pushed her food away.  


_Narcissa Black  
Black Manor  
Aylesbury Vale  
Buckinghamshire_

Narcissa was well aware that her family did not have a real address the way some people had an address. Her cousins lived at 12 Grimmald Place. There was a number and title of the building, the name of the thoroughfare; plus she had to put the locality name, and London because that was the city they lived in. Her address was a little vague. Most things that came to her from friends came addressed: Narcissa Black, Black Manor. All the rest of it was superfluous. There was only one Black Manor and the people who were supposed to know where it was, knew. She knew they were northwest of London, but she had never seen Aylesbury Vale and Buckinghamshire on anything addressed to her. It was amusing, and she wondered if her sister’s letters had been addressed similarly.

She turned the letter over, scrutinizing the crest stamped into the red wax on the envelope. If she squinted, she could make out the little animals in the four quadrants. Of course, the only one that really mattered was the snake, the mascot for Slytherin, where she would end up next year. She was confident of that. Both her sisters had ended up there, as well as her father, uncles, and aunt, not to mention hundreds of Blacks throughout the years. With her family history intertwined with Slytherin’s where else could she go?

Carefully she pried the seal off the letter without detaching it from the parchment completely as she might want to save it. After sliding the letter out of the envelope, she placed that on the table and unfolded her invitation to the wizarding school, reading aloud to both of her parents.
    
    
    Hogwarts School _of_  Witchcraft _and_  Wizardry
    Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore
    ( _Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwamp, International Confed. of Wizards_ )
    
    Dear Miss Black,
    
    	We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.
    	Term begins on September 1. We await your owl no later than July 31.
    
    Yours Sincerely,
    Horace Slughorn
    _Head of Slytherin._
    

Like her sister’s letters, a note was attached - _It’s been a pleasure teaching your sisters. It will be a joy to have you join us._ She was pleased to get the personal note, and to have the letter come from Slughorn. It made her feel as if she was a member of his house already. Cygnus and Druella were pleased it was Slughorn and not the deputy headmistress, who was the head of Gryffindor. They felt it criminal that a woman (and a Gryffindor) had been offered the position over Slughorn who had more seniority.

Even though the supply requirements were the same as her sisters’ in years past, she glanced over her list. Minus the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, Andromeda had all the same teachers, the same books, the same everything that Bellatrix had the year before. It was no surprised to Narcissa that her list was exactly the same, but it was _hers._

“May I get a kitten too, please?” she asked after reading the supplies. Bellatrix had gotten an owl for the mail when she headed off to Hogwarts, although her oldest sister did not consider it a pet. Now that Andromeda was there, she shared the pretty eagle owl, as they mostly wrote home or to their cousins. Narcissa assumed she would share as well, although the amount of mail the bird carried would drop dramatically once she was at Hogwarts. She knew Bella almost never wrote their parents and Andromeda only wrote them when written to first. If she did not need an owl, even if the family could easily afford one for her, she thought it would be nice to have a kitten to take with her to Hogwarts. A kitten would stay in the dormitory with her while an owl was regulated to the owlery because no one wanted a smelly owl in their room. Not to mention right now she was terribly lonely being the only child in the house. A kitten would be something to play with. Something that was not a hideous house elf. Cissa was happy the house elves did all the work, but they were not pretty creatures and she avoided them as much as possible.

Druella looked over at her husband, a decision left to him. She remembered fondly having a pet when she was a girl, it seemed reasonable to her. The house elves would have no trouble caring for one. Cygnus debated for a moment before giving his consent, causing Narcissa to flush a happy pink color as she smiled. After they got her wand and books, they would go to Magical Menagerie and she would pick out the most perfect kitten there ever was.

After her parents finished breakfast and Cygnus had taken care of something urgent, all three headed off to Diagon Alley. Druella was immediately dismissed to go and buy books. Theoretically Narcissa could have used Bella’s copies for most of the classes, for those her sister no longer needed sat unused in Bella’s room at the manor, but there was no chance the Blacks would send their youngest, and arguably favorite, daughter off to school with second hand books. Even if they were only hand me downs from her sister. 

While Druella took care of the least exciting aspects of the supply list, Cygnus led Narcissa to Ollivanders. The shopkeeper was finishing with another customer, wrapping the wand box with some tissue paper and ribbon and sliding it into a glossy bag before handing it to a girl the height of the counter. Noticing the parents’ difficulty in paying the shopkeeper, Cygnus swept Narcissa behind him so the other little girl could not talk to his daughter or brush into her, or be allowed any sort of interaction. Shameful letting that sort into Diagon Alley with the rest of them. They should not even be able to _see_ Diagon Alley.

Cygnus did not talk until they were out of the store. The woman tried to make eye contact and smile but he glared haughtily in return, staring down his nose in disgust. How dare they try to initiate contact! They did not even know who he was! He was glad he had sequestered Narcissa behind him or no doubt the tiny mudblood would have tried to talk to her. Once the filth had left Narcissa came out from behind him, a little confused. She had not really seen the people in the store because her father had pushed her behind him right as she noticed they were waiting. Before that she had been more interested in the store itself, all the wands on the walls, getting curious as to which wand would be hers. It had only been after her father had pushed her behind him that she had noticed there were people in the store.

“Clean the counter,” Cygnus ordered. 

Ollivander did not bat an eye or raise an eyebrow, he understood the prejudices of many purebloods and was unfazed by their requests. It would not be in anyone’s benefit to argue, and he had a business to run, instead using his wand to wipe down the counter until Cygnus appeared satisfied. Ollivander did not take part in such arguments, business was business, and once someone was magical they needed a wand, whether they were pureblood or muggleborn.

“It must be your youngest’s birthday today,” Ollivander said to Cygnus before looking down at Narcissa in order to wish, “A very happy birthday to you, Miss Narcissa.”

“Do you make all the wands yourself? All the wands here?”

“Yes, indeed I do, as my father did before him. Soon though, I will have to take on an apprentice. One does not live forever.”

She nodded and went back to staring at the wands behind him. It seemed the whole behind the counter area was filled with wand boxes, floor to ceiling. There were so many, how on earth was he able to find the perfect wand without taking the entire day?

“I will need your wand arm in order to take some measurements,” Ollivander prompted.

“Oh,” Narcissa said, and then held out her right arm. “The same arm I write with?” she asked to confirm her assumption.

Ollivander nodded, did many of the same measurements he had done to her sisters and then headed towards the shelves in order to hunt down some possibilities. Narcissa watched with fascination while her father stalked around behind her, still annoyed a mudblood had been in the store right before them.

“Try this one,” Ollivander offered. “Hawthorne, eleven inches, with a phoenix tail feather. Go ahead, give it a whirl.”

Narcissa waved it around like her sisters did at home but nothing happened and Ollivander snatched it out of her grip, replacing it with something else.

“Maybe this. Hawthorne, ten and three quarter inches, with a unicorn tail hair.”

The same amount of nothing happened when Narcissa tried.

“Well, not that one then. But I think this will do. Willow, eleven and a quarter inches, with a unicorn tail hair.”

Narcissa took this wand and warmth spread throughout her body when she waved it. Her face lit up at the gold sparks that came out the end. “Oh!” she exclaimed.

“Perfect. You do look like a girl made to use basket willow. I should have tried it first. An excellent wand for charms.”

Cygnus liked that it was good for charms. Most of the magic he believed pureblood women did was charms work, decorating and entertaining. Right sort of wand for a girl. But he had never heard of basket willow. “What’s that about the wood?” he demanded.

“A soft, light wood, reminds me of her hair. But a sturdy wood, no threat of the wand breaking. Surprisingly tough and elastic, not given to splintering.”

Cygnus nodded. Soft and light certainly described Narcissa. The rest of Ollivander’s babble less so, but that had to do with trees and the actual wood, nothing to do with the wand’s qualities. The wand would not have those sorts of characteristics. It could not, not with Narcissa wielding it.

They worked out the usual arrangement for Ollivander to make a duplicate wand. Cygnus believed in having a second wand that was exactly your recipe. One never knew what could happen and having a good wand around all the time was certainly handy. It would never be a complete match, not the way a wand chose in the store, but it could be depended upon to produce equal levels of magic. It was an old practice, not everyone did it anymore, especially because of the cost, but he had done it for all his children, the duplicate wands locked up in a safe place in his study.

When Ollivander suggested a box for her wand, Narcissa shook her head, “No thank you, I will carry it out. But maybe you could put one of those ribbons on the box?”

Ollivander smiled, “Of course, which color would you prefer?”

“Blue, the light blue.”

Ollivander made a note to deliver the box with a blue ribbon when he delivered the duplicate, and of course, the box for the original wand. She might never use it, but each box was made for the wand it went with and he would not reuse it. And some witches and wizards liked to store their wands in the boxes.

With this errand complete, Cygnus passed his daughter off to his wife, and went back to his own business. The rest of the morning, and the beginning of the afternoon were spent getting some new robes and acquiring the rest of Narcissa’s required supplies. After lunch, the only thing left was her kitten.

Magical Menagerie was deserted of people when they arrived, but it was certainly not quiet. Animals of all shapes and sizes were making noise, barking, meowing, and hooting the most common, but there were others, the scuffling of rodents, some toads croaking, the cawing of crows, and even the odd human word from a talkative parrot. The pair headed towards the kitten area and started to browse. Some of them were sleeping which made it difficult to get an idea if they were the perfect kitten. How could she tell if she could not see their faces? What if it’s face was all smushed in, or what if it was missing an eye? It did not seem too likely, but she had to make sure. There was no way she was going to get an ugly pet.

Then she saw it. A little long haired kitty, sitting on a pillow, with grayish blueish hair. She guessed technically it was grey, but the sign said it was a Persian Russian Blue. It was so cute, staring at her with big blue-green eyes. It looked like a little puff of fur. This was her kitten and she wanted it right now.

“That one!” she declared, pointing to the little fluff ball.

Hearing a decision being made, the shopkeeper flew over.

“What sort of cat is that?” Druella asked.

“Oh, that is the only one we have. It’s a cross between a Russian Blue and a Persian. Persians often have faces that look a little smashed together, but through selective breeding with the Russian Blue, we were able to keep the long hair while ensuring no smashed face.”

“It’s a dirty mixed breed?”

“No!” The shopkeeper sounded a bit offended. “Not at all, she’s half one breed and half one other, bred to keep the best aspects of both breeds. She’s a new breed. The only one.”

“One of a kind?”  
“Only one in the world at the moment.”

“Please?” Narcissa asked, her eyes wide. She was not sure what the exchange had involved, just a lot of questions she had not paid attention to because she was trying to play with the kitten through the holes in the cage.

“We’ll take it.”

The shopkeeper looked pleased and the house elf was burdened down with all sorts of supplies. Druella instructed them to contact Gringotts for the payment, signing off on the expenditure, like she had for Bellatrix’s owl a couple of years prior. Now that they needed cat supplies, she might ask Cygnus to set up a tab, it was currently one of the few stores in the Alley that did not have one. The kitten, now named Blossom, wore a brand new periwinkle blue collar with a tag listing her name and who she belonged to, while sitting in Narcissa’s arms, purring while Narcissa scratched behind her ears. Cissa could not wait to show her sisters her kitten when they came home for summer, and could not wait to show her friends the next time a party was held at the manor. In the meantime, she would write letters to tell them all about Blossom, the most perfect kitten ever.


	30. And The World Cracked Open

As a rule, Bellatrix did not like parties. Her hatred of them meant her mother would hold as many as humanly possibly during the summer. The entirety of pureblood society would show up for the one tonight. She would have to wear a dress her mother had previously picked out and approved, spend the evening having people crush her toes, and when her father got inebriated and caught her having a sensible discussion with her male peers, she would end up being called to his study as the guests were leaving and the night would end with, at the very least, a slap across the face.

It was hard to determine which part would be the most fun and enjoyable. 

Narcissa had dressed hours ago, literally. The pale pink dress she was wearing had become an instant favorite; waiting to wear it for the party had been torture. Despite not being actual midsummer, the party was midsummer themed, and flower garlands had been commissioned for the girls’ hair. Star jasmine and honeysuckle for Narcissa, delphinium and ivy for Andromeda. The older girl had a chiffon dress of navy blue, much the same style as Narcissa’s: little cap sleeves, a wide waistband, and a skirt that fell in waves. 

Druella, more than satisfied with the picture they made, was more than annoyed Bellatrix had not appeared, sending Andromeda to bring her sister down. When Andy returned without Bellatrix, Druella went to slap some sense into her, Andromeda and Narcissa close on her heels. Their sister might hate these sorts of parties, but she usually tried to behave. If their father heard she was being willful and disobedient he would rough her up a bit before the party, where no one could see, and not allow her to use anything that would heal the developing bruises before the guests arrived, making it painful if someone held her a bit too tightly while dancing. But she _could not_ go downstairs. 

Over the past year her body had started rounding out. Druella had not noticed, it being far more obvious to Bellatrix, who was experiencing the changes. With Bella off at school most of the year, and having been in France when the dresses were purchased, her old measurements had been used. The entire bottom half of the dress rode up slightly, bunching around the waist, which no longer sat at her waist, although that was partly due to her desperate tugging at the front of the dress. To top it off, the cap sleeves were cutting into her shoulders. 

When her sisters and mother came through her door, Bella turned away trying to cover herself.

“Let me see,” Druella ordered, and her eldest turned back around, uncomfortably clutching the top of her dress. Druella did not need more than a glance before quickly snapping for a house elf. “Take the dress off Bellatrix.” 

Bella complied, wriggling hard to get out, before leaving it in a heap on the floor. 

“I did not realize you were developing already.” When the elf appeared, Druella instructed to run off to Twilfit and Tattings and grab the shopkeepers for emergency alterations. For a major party of the season, one she was hosting, her daughter could not wear an old dress, but neither could she wear one that showed her developing breasts. And if Bellatrix was developing breasts, she needed a dress that properly accented her femininity. The elf grabbed the dress to ensure color matching and disappeared while Druella smiled at Bella, “You will need more adult dresses now.”

In almost no time at all, two people appeared in her room, carrying the dress and a bolt of fabric.

“My daughter’s dress needs to be altered. The party is in two hours, I expect the dress in one.” 

The seamstresses appeared a little shocked. They had been about to close for the evening when the house elf arrived, citing an emergency on a dress they had made. While tempting to refuse, they had recognized the insignia on the elf’s tea towel. If they said no to Druella Black, their business would drop dramatically among the upper sect. Pureblood socialites were nothing if not vindictive about perceived snubs.

Ms. Tatting headed straight for Bellatrix, tape measure in hand while her assistant started tearing apart seams. The skirt would need little changing, maybe minor detailing if time allowed, the style and cut would remain virtually the same; the bulk of the work would be on the top half. As the hour passed, the two whirred away, employing all the charms they knew in order to complete the rush order. Narcissa climbed up on her sister’s bed to watch while Andromeda fell into one of Bella’s chairs. Bella stayed standing, every so often one of the seamstresses would come and drape fabric or try something on her. In an hour exactly, the entire thing was done and Druella, after finishing her initial inspection, was handing it over to Bellatrix to try on.

Instead of the cap sleeves, an aspect she abhorred, the dress had wide straps with no sleeves and a gentle scoop neck. Bella liked the way it hugged her new curves, subtle enough that she would not worry about needing to pull it up throughout the night, but it did not ignore the fact her body was changing. Being unopposed to most of the changes, she was glad to highlight them a bit. They had made the waistband a little more delicate, and the skirt now had two layers, a chiffon overskirt that had matched Andy’s dress in style if not color, as well as a shorter inner layer made of the same material as the bodice of the dress, altered to fit a the littlest bit tighter to her body. Everything felt more mature about this dress. Turning to see the gentle scoop in the back in the mirror, Bellatrix would have stood taller if she could.

Druella nodded and dismissed the seamstresses with a wave of her hand; they were no longer needed. She would pay them well for their work; a much larger sum than originally doled out, the mistake had been her own.

All that was left was the garland for Bella’s hair. Unlike her sisters, who had two different plants, Bella’s was made entirely of bells of Ireland, the light green standing out in contrast against her dark hair. A nice compliment to the emerald green she was wearing.

The three girls were told to put on their shoes and jewelry and meet their mother downstairs within the next half hour. Druella went to double check everything and to change into her own outfit, a rich purple gown with her hair done in a French twist, accented with purple and white iris. Right before the first guests arrived, Cygnus joined them for the receiving line.

All of pureblood society was there, no one was about to decline an invitation sent by the Blacks. All the important families, as well as the families trying to work themselves into better, more secure positions. This meant all the children were there for the girls to entertain. 

Narcissa went off with her group of girlfriends. At, eleven, she was not expected to do a whole lot of dancing, although if someone were to ask, she would have to, and she hoped to be asked; her dress needed to be shown off on the dance floor. But the boys her age tended to prefer to retreat into a group, needing urging from their parents to initiate any dancing.

Andromeda walked around until she found Briony and the pair wandered around together, making sure they were seen by their parents. Both ended up on the dance floor a couple of times, but it was usually older boys who asked Andromeda and she felt sure she was asked because she was a Black and Bellatrix was already dancing. She hoped the evening would not last too long, or at least the part of the evening where her parents paid close attention to her. She had a new book she knew Briony would be interested in.

Bellatrix was the most in demand. Thirteen going on fourteen was nothing less than an adult and she was expected to act like one. No more could she sit on the sidelines and watch without impunity. There were bonds to be made and matches to be scrutinized. While parents were mostly out of the habit of arranged marriage, strongly encouraged matches were an only slightly better replacement. Everyone wanted their children to marry the best they could get and parties were where interactions could be judged. With Bellatrix at the top of society’s ladder, the boys anywhere near her age took her for round after round on the dance floor, on orders from their parents if they were not intelligent enough social players on their own. Everyone wanted to be able to say the eldest Black took an affinity to his or her son, but with her dancing with everyone, that would be difficult.

Bellatrix found it tiring, and painful for her feet. Crabbe and Goyle, both a year older, were not good about avoiding stepping on her feet, they had not learned how to be graceful on the dance floor, even though they knew the steps. Perhaps their growth spurts had something to do with their ungainliness. It did not help they were both quite bigger than she and it took all her willpower not to squint her face up in pain when they trod heavily on her. After dancing with the pair back to back, and seeing another boy approaching her immediately, she was grateful when a hand fell on the small of her back and led her towards a gathering of chairs, a drink pressed into her hand. She collapsed into a chair and in an unladylike move, downed the glass of punch, noticing her savior had been Lucius Malfoy. Joining them were Lestrange, and Rosier leading Isolde. Lucius gave Lestrange a look.

He shrugged. “If you see Bernadette, get her, but I have no idea where she is.”

“We figured we’d rescue you _before_ you fainted,” Rosier explained. “You looked about to die.”

Bellatrix made a face, grabbing a glass of cider off a passing tray and downed that as well. “You would too if people couldn’t stay off your toes and never let you get a drink because it was soooo important they dance with you.”

Isolde nodded her agreement; “I haven’t had anything to eat since I arrived. I’m famished.”

With perfect timing, a house elf walked by with a plate of food and Rodolphus grabbed it, placing it on the table. “Why don’t you say no?” he asked, already knowing the answer, earning dual death glares from the annoyed girls, who could not answer with mouths full. The boys pulled up their own chairs, Lucius announcing they would monopolize their time long enough to give them some rest. Bellatrix protested they did not need saving and she was not that tired, but the boys ignored her. It did not help Bella’s case that Isolde gave them a grateful look. She knew she would have to go back to dancing, but at least she could rest her feet and stop dancing on an empty stomach.

The rest did not last long for Bellatrix. The five were involved in conversation when Druella came and led her eldest away. “The Harper’s oldest boy wanted to dance with you but couldn’t find you anywhere. You know you have to make yourself available to dance.”

He must not have looked very hard, Bella thought to herself, they had hardly been hiding, being in plain sight of anyone with eyes. But she said none of that, relying on a better excuse. “Lucius Malfoy asked me to come and talk.”

“You have talked long enough,” Druella insisted, as they approached another woman, standing next to a boy who had to be four years older. Her tone changer, “Ah, here she is, Avaeline. I knew she could not be far.” Giving Bella a nudge in the direction of the boy, she grabbed hold of the other woman’s arm to lead her away, “Why don’t we let these two get to know each other better?”

Bella put a smile on her face, but inwardly she was groaning. He would be going into his seventh year, unless he had failed all his exams, which was not entirely out of the question. Absolutely no reason he would want to dance with a thirteen year old other than the fact she was a Black and had a dowry as large as his entire estate. His mother probably wanted to insist to her mother the pair would be a good match. She was pretty sure the boy had his eye on a girl in the year below his, although that girl was not a step up in the world. He did not want anything to do with her, but he would dance with her to make his mother happy while she got bored to tears, and looking at the size of his feet, trampled as well.

“May I have this dance?” He offered his hand.

She nodded pleasantly, placing her hand in his. Other than asking her to dance he did not say a word to her as he led her around the floor. He was not as bad of a dancer as she anticipated, perhaps because he was older and had more practice. It was still torture. He was considerably taller than her even in her heels and he held her much closer to his body than most of the boys her age, which was uncomfortable and forced her to tilt her head way up in order to look at him. That was not essential for dancing and with him not talking, she did not need to look him in the face, but that meant staring at his chest. In silence.

When the song ended, she thanked him and tried to head back to her friends, but he would not drop her hand. She yanked back; his grip weakened for half a second before he pulled her towards him, strengthening his grip higher up on her wrist.

“What are you _doing_?” she demanded.

“We are going to have another dance,” he said.

Bella looked at him incredulously, they had not even _talked_ and he wanted _another_ dance? What was the point? More awkward silence?

“Come on,” he insisted angrily. “I’m asking you to dance.”

She relented, stepping back towards him as he took her hand again. She hoped this time he would talk or something. Dancing was fine but dancing in silence while she pretended to enjoy herself was stupid.

She attempted small talk. “Are you enjoying the party?”

“No.”

Bellatrix glared at his chest, happy she could do that, without him able to see the angry look on her face. “Sorry to hear that,” she replied, not sorry at all. She doubted dancing with her was going to make the experience better. “What’s been so terrible?” He did not respond and she sighed, glancing around to see who was near them. When she did that, he shook her a little. “What?” she demanded, stunned. 

“Pay attention to me,” he insisted.

“You aren’t talking to me.”

“You are a child and a girl, you don’t make interesting conversation.”

“I won’t stare silently at you,” she hissed in return. 

He practically crushed her hand at her refusal, invoking a yelp from her. What the hell was he playing at?

“Fine,” he conceded, squeezing her hand much too tightly, and increasing pressure at her waist, as if he was pinching her. “I will talk and you will smile and nod. My mother is looking this way anyway.” Bella automatically attempted to glance around to see, and he hissed through his teeth, “No don’t look for her, you stupid chit. Look happy.”

She plastered a smile on her face and looked up at him, hating this boy with everything she had, hoping the song would be over soon and he would fall off a cliff before that. She was a Black! Too bad they did not have a creature in the garden she could feed him too.

“You have a large dowry, don’t you?”

Bella nodded.

“I thought we were talking.”

“Yes.”

“You aren’t bad looking, pretty enough, and young. In a few years you might really be something.”

“What?”

“If I marry you, I will have the status and money I want.”

“I’m not marrying you.”

“Of course we would get betrothed first since you are young.”

“Not on your life.”

“Listen, you stupid, little, girl,” he glared down at her, no attempt to hide the anger on his face. “I will marry who I want to marry. You are the richest-“

“May I cut in?” Rodolphus came up beside them, tapping the Harper boy on the shoulder.

“No,” the boy’s fingers were digging into Bellatrix’s skin now. “Find your own girl.”

“You’ve had her for three dances in a row. I want to dance with her.”

“I’m dancing with her.” 

Bellatrix was tempted to kick him in order to force him to drop her so she could run away. He was seriously deluded if he thought dancing with her the rest of the evening would get them betrothed. 

“Not anymore,” Rodolphus insisted. “I’m Rodolphus _Lestrange_ and _I_ will be dancing with Bellatrix Black.”

Harper dropped her hand, removing his other hand from her waist, and Bellatrix immediately moved to put Rodolphus between her and the crazy person. Apparently her wealth was not worth upsetting the heir to the Lestrange fortune. But it looked as if he thought he could claim her after, he did not step very far off. Rodolphus noticed, leading her in the opposite direction. 

“You could have shown up sooner,” she told him.

“Be glad I showed up at all, Black.”

The song did not last much longer. As it came to an end she could see Harper headed their way, and there was no way she was going back to dancing with that freak. 

“The garden?” she asked. When Rod agreed, she headed away from the party. There were people in the garden dancing and talking, but those people also looked too drunk to pay attention to them. Hopefully the Harper boy had not gotten a good enough look at where they had gone.

“What now?” Rodolphus asked once they were clear of people and lights, leaving them in the moonlight, with a little help from the glow of the manor windows.

Bella shrugged, “I have spots in the garden I like when I get tired of parties.” She was not going to head back in while Harper had her on his mind, whether or not Rodolphus wanted to stay with her. _He_ could always go back inside. But Rodolphus agreed and she led him towards the rose garden. A few of the rose arches had grown over almost completely, leaving clearings of grass in the middle. Practically hidden but plenty of room for two people, they could lie on the grass and look at the stars or something. Rodolphus was free to leave if he got bored; entertaining him was not her concern. 

Her plans were halted when they arrived at her favorite clearing, ducked under the climbing ivy mixed with the roses and found they were no longer alone. A couple was already there and they were not lying on the grass looking at the stars. Bella froze, her mouth falling open; Rodolphus ran into the back of her and peered over her shoulder to figure out what was happening. They both stared in silence for a second, and realizing they should not be watching, backed out of the clearing the way they had come in.

They walked in silence for a moment.

“There are other places,” Bella started, “like-“

“I know what they were doing,” Rodolphus interrupted.

“You do?”

Rodolphus smiled and nodded.

“Tell me!”

“No.”

“Tell me.”

“No.”

Bellatrix made an angry noise at him and he laughed at her anger. He was not entirely sure if he was correct, not wanting her to laugh at him in case he was wrong and she knew the difference. Or even later if he was wrong and she figured it out, he would never hear the end of it. Plus it was nice to lord something over her. 

Bella drew her wand. “Tell me!”

Rodolphus drew his own and advanced on her. “Anything you hex me with, I can hex you the same. Not much of a threat.”

Bella was forced to back up, unless she wanted to be poked by his wand. Chances were he would poke her in the eye, Rodolphus was not known for being careful and he was taller. Backing up hindered her vision and a few steps later she stumbled into a tree, hitting her head on the trunk. Her hand went up to rub the back of her head and Rodolphus was inches away from her in moments. She glared at him; the whole thing was his fault.

“I could show you.”

“What?”

“Show you how to start.”

“I’m… I… What?” she stammered

Suddenly, she found herself unable to talk. Rodolphus had leaned forward and pressed his face to hers. Her eyes opened wide at the pressure against her lips and she reached up and pushed him away. With more room between them, she slapped him, hard.

“What are you doing!” she yelled.

“You said you wanted to know what they were doing,” 

“That wasn’t what they were doing!” 

“You don’t know that!” Rodolphus looked smug. “Kissing is how it starts.”

Bellatrix had no way to refute it. She had no idea what the couple had been doing and with most of the kisses she had seen being very chaste, short pecks, she did not really know what a kiss was like either. Some of the older Slytherins sucked face in the common room, but Bellatrix ignored anyone she did not want to pay attention to, regardless of what they were doing. With no retort, she settled for angry glaring. 

Rodolphus continued to egg her on. “I take it by your face you agree. It was a bad kiss.”

Bella stared, annoyed and insulted at being told she was bad at something, with no way to tell him he was wrong. She had never been kissed, how could she know how it was supposed to be? He was talking as if he had done it before and knew.

“We should do it again,” he stated, moving back towards her. He had put his wand back in his pocket, and while Bella’s was still in hand, it was hanging at her side as if she had not thought of it for quite a while. Reaching forward, he put his hands on either side of her face, tilting her head slightly before leaning down and touching his lips to hers again. She felt she should close her eyes and they stayed like that for a few moments, lips touching but not moving before he pulled away, declaring, “Better.”

They stared at each other for a while before he said, “We should get back. Before someone notices we’re gone.”


	31. Heritage Shining Through

From the moment he woke up in the morning it had been a very un-Regulus-like day. Right after waking up he felt out of sorts. If there were a way to skip a day completely because he had a bad feeling, he would have done so. But that was not an option for adults, much less a six year old. Despite feeling very unsure, he had gotten up and gone about the day; there was nothing else to do.

Breakfast was uneventful, although it had been porridge for breakfast and he did not like porridge, not even when he put things on it. It had not been too hot and burned his mouth, nor had it been too cold and utterly inedible. The house elves would never have allowed either. But it had still been porridge.

After that he played quietly in the nursery, while Sirius did whatever Sirius did in his room. Sirius had turned seven in December; he got his own room now, a proper room. They did not have to share, which was nice because Regulus got his own space. But it was not his own space the way Sirius got his own space because it was still the nursery and Regulus could not change anything. He spent a good deal of the morning wishing he had turned seven this year and gotten his own room where he could change things he did not like. Plus, in his own room there would be no bed that his brother used to sleep in that now went unused. If he had his own room his brother could not come in without being invited. Regulus had to knock on Sirius’ door, but Sirius could come into the nursery whenever he chose because it was not really Regulus’ space. It was very annoying to have Sirius come in whenever he wanted and disturb the room. 

Kreacher had not had time to play with Regulus either. Kreacher was busy with things mother had told the elf to do. Since Regulus was worried about something going wrong he tried to avoid doing anything with toys he particularly cared about. No playing with his train in case it broke, for instance. But that left him little to do but worry and pace, he did not usually pace, and no Kreacher either.

Lunch had also been uneventful, serving to worry Regulus more. He distinctly felt as if something bad would happen today. Nothing yet had happened which only meant the anticipation of waiting for it would get worse and worse. Ultimately whatever happened would be even worse because of all the waiting. He had not liked what the house elves had prepared for lunch and when his mother was not looking he scowled at it. It was not possible that the only thing wrong with the day would be the food, that was not how feelings worked, and yet that was all that been wrong. That hardly warranted a _feeling_. If he could not trust his own instincts, what was he supposed to do?

After lunch, Sirius begged him to play Quidditch in the garden. Not real Quiddich because it was only the two of them and one hoop. They took turns blocking the other from scoring. Regulus agreed to play, against his better judgment. He could fall and hurt himself, or he could break his broom, or Sirius could fall and hurt himself – more than normal since it was not particularly unusual for Sirius to injure himself in minor ways because Sirius never stayed in one place for long. He could even conceivably get stuck in one of the trees. Lots of bad things could happen, but he also did not want to spend the entire afternoon being bored, so he agreed to play. Throwing caution to the wind.

It had been a bad idea. He was exactly right about this day being destined to be a bad day where bad things happened. He did not fall off his broom, nor did he break his broom, or even splinter it. Sirius did not get hurt. But what happened was still really bad.

Sirius, as a bossy older brother, forced Regulus into playing keeper. Regulus was not that good at being keeper, being younger meant he had less experience on a broom, and being keeper meant you needed to be good _and_ be able to catch the quaffle. But generally Regulus was a good sport about it because sooner or later Sirius would get bored and decide he wanted to be keeper and Regulus enjoyed playing chaser. Today, Sirius had not gotten bored. Sirius kept throwing the quaffle at Regulus, and then started teasing him when he did not catch it. Scoring the point became less important to him, being seemingly more invested in whether or not Regulus could catch the ball and whether or not he would have to fly after it. Then he started throwing it out of bounds, not even aiming at the hoop! Time and time again Regulus had to go after it, while Sirius laughed. Eventually, Regulus asked to switch positions, but Sirius refused. Frustration grew up inside Regulus so much that he threw the quaffle at his brother’s head, yelling at the top of his lungs all the things he hated about Sirius.

Which would not have been _that_ bad a thing, other then the fact Regulus did not yell, ever, except their mother was walking past the open French doors at that precise moment, heard Regulus yelling, and saw Regulus throwing the ball. While Walburga was no fool and assumed Sirius was not blameless, yelling at one’s brother and throwing the quaffle at his head was completely unacceptable. Regulus had to be punished.

That was the no good, very bad, thing that happened. Regulus never got punished. Regulus never needed punishment. Regulus liked being good. He lost his temper, just once, and his mother came out of the house very, very, angry. At _him_.

“We do not yell at our brother!” she exclaimed, anger flashing in her eyes. “We do not throw the quaffle at his head!”

Then, in another very un-Regulus like moment, Regulus talked back and said it was Sirius’ fault because Sirius had been making fun of him and laughing and would not switch positions and it _was not fair!_ Sirius called him a tattle-tale, which only made Regulus _more_ angry. He almost flew at his brother in the hope of knocking him off the broom, but Druella yelled and sent him to the nursery.

His only consolation was Sirius was sent to his room for calling him a tattle-tale.

Not much of a consolation because when he arrived at the nursery, Regulus discovered the house elves had not done important things yet, like make his bed. Normally they did not do it while he was in the room, but he had been gone all that time playing Quidditch and his bed had not been made? Because the stupid elves were busy with some stupid thing that his mother had them doing? Did they not realize how important a made bed was?!

He had hoped to come back to the nursery to lie on his bed and be angry at everything and he could not do that now because the bed was unmade. Beds had to be made!

What was he supposed to do now? Lay on the floor? The carpet was not even straight! It was very upsetting. Everything was very upsetting. He had known it would be a bad day when he woke up and he was right! No one ever yelled at him and he was never punished and now he had been sent to his room to think about what he had done and mother was probably thinking about giving him a spanking because that was what she did to Sirius. Regulus had never been spanked before. Sirius got away with all sorts of things. All the time. He was not even well behaved most of the time. Regulus was well behaved ninety nine percent of the time. The one time he did anything he got caught. Unfair!

His frustration led him almost to the point of tears. The idea that his mother was angry with him was overwhelming. It had never happened before. Walburga doted on him, and in return he had always been very good. Extraordinarily good, as other mothers often said to her. Sirius was a handful, but Regulus was delightful. Regulus knew about this because his mother always told him how proud she was and how other mothers wished their sons were as well behaved as he was. Now she was disappointed in him.

He could not even lie down on his bed and think about it like she had told him to do!

That was the last straw. Hot tears came to his eyes. Feeling that, he squeezed his eyes up really tight. He was not going to cry. He would not. Babies cried. He was six. Six was not a baby. Bellatrix had told him not to cry because it was for babies and he was a big boy. She had taken him aside earlier in the summer to tell him that and now he was crying and he was not supposed to. His face grew hot, feeling sick with embarrassment. 

Eyes closed, he rubbed his face furiously with his fists, in the hope it would prevent more tears and would sop up any wetness on his face. “Stop it,” he willed himself. “Stop. It. You are not a baby!”

He took a great big shuddering breath and decided the crying was done. He could open his eyes then. Because he was done crying. It was decided. As he pulled his hands away from his eyes, he realized his room was different. Significantly different. Had the house elves come in while his eyes were closed?

But that could not have happened. His eyes were only closed for a few seconds. The house elves were quick and had their own magic, but they could not have done this in so short of time. 

So, who exactly _had_ made his bed?

Curiosity replaced all desire to cry as he went over to investigate. Rather then the haphazard sheets, pillows, and blankets that had been on his bed moments before, his bed lay neat and tidy in front of him. The pillows were fluffed. Corners all tucked in, perfectly, only adding more evidence to the fact it could not have been the elves. They did a very good job on a regular basis, but it was too perfect for them to have run in and out really fast while his eyes were closed. The corners would be messier, and they were perfect. His extra blanket was folded up on top, taking up exactly the bottom third of his bed, no more and no less. 

House elves could only have done this if they used their magic, but he had not heard house elf cracks. And he had already ruled them out. It had to have been magic though!

Then he realized. There already was someone magical in the room. _Him_.

He had been waiting for his first magic. He heard all about his cousin’s and brother’s, over and over and over again. First magic was a big deal. It meant you were for good a wizard and it had to happen before your eleventh birthday or your name was not down for Hogwarts and then what would you do? Squibs were not welcome in the Black Family. Bellatrix said one of the burn marks on the tapestry was a squib. 

Sirius did his first magic at six so Regulus had been watching and waiting for his. He had actually been watching and waiting since he turned five; Bellatrix had been five. But the watching and waiting was over; he had done it. He had done his first magic. He had made his bed. Every last bit of it, perfectly.

He needed to go and tell his mother. This would change all the yelling and sending him to his room. 

His mother had told him to stay in his room until an elf came to get him. There was a chance he would get into trouble if he left his room. On the other hand, this was something his mother would want to know about. First magic was a big deal. Sirius had set fire to drapes, and Mother had showed them off at the party that night and then they had a family celebration the next night – all of Sirius’ favorite foods and a cake _and_ Sirius got a practice toy wand. Not as good as a real wand, but Regulus still wanted one.

This had to count as an extraordinary circumstance and he could leave his room to find his mother. Or… he could summon a house elf, send the house elf for her and he could not get into trouble at all. He had no way to know if his mother told the elves to not respond to summons, but she would be proud to see how _good_ he was on _top_ of the magic. Much better plan. Regulus felt smug because Sirius would never have bothered with such measures because Sirius was not as good as he was.

Snapping his fingers, Regulus called for Kreacher. There was a chance the elf would not appear, but he knew the elf liked him especially. Liked mother the most, but definitely liked him more than Sirius. Either Kreacher had not been told to ignore summons or he was ignoring the orders for Regulus’ sake. Regulus hoped it was the former and not the latter since he did not want the elf to have to iron its ears. If that were the case, maybe Walburga would excuse it for reporting on a _big deal_.

“Master Regulus called Kreacher?” the elf asked, head bowed.

“I need you to find mother. I just did my first magic.”

Kreacher looked up, “What good news, Master Regulus!”

“I made my bed, look!”

Kreacher dutifully looked and seemed to be very impressed, his sharp eyes catching the neatness and precision of everything. “Very nice, Master Regulus. Kreacher will go get Miss Walburga so she can see what a fine thing Master Regulus has done.” Kreacher hurried for the door. Regulus would not have minded if Kreacher disapparated out of the room, despite it not being entirely proper, but he knew full well the elf would run the entire way and his mother did not like the elves popping in and out everywhere.

“Kreacher doesn’t want to bother Miss Walburga but Kreacher has big news from Master Regulus.” The stress of interrupting could not be avoided completely and he pulled on his ears as he spoke to the lady of the house. “Bad Kreacher,” he thought. “Bad, Bad, Kreacher.”

“What?” Walburga was sure it was her youngest apologizing and wanting to be let out of his room.

“Master Regulus would like Miss Walburga to come see the evidence of his first magic,” Kreacher reported happily. Despite the nagging thought he was bad for interrupting, it was impossible to hide his glee. First magic solidified Master Regulus’ place in the family. Master Regulus was better than the other boy. Master Regulus would get his own celebration now.

“His first magic?” Walburga was on her feet the moment those words were spoken. She did not bother to wait for the elf to confirm what he had said, Kreacher did not lie. She hurried to her son’s room, discovering a very pleased looking Regulus.

“I made the bed!” he announced, pointing. “It hadn’t been done and I closed my eyes and when I opened them, it was like that!”

Walburga crossed the room, examining her son’s handiwork, sending Kreacher to get a camera so she would have evidence to show her friends. Both her boys doing magic well before they turned seven meant strong magic. Druella’s girls, as long as she did not count Bellatrix, and she did not, had taken much longer. 

“This is wonderful, Reggie. Such detail. Impressive for a first burst of magic. I’m sure we’ll see big things from you.”

Regulus swelled with pride. He repeated her words inside his head so later he could write them down.

When Kreacher returned with the camera, Walburga carefully photographer the bed from several angles so every bit of it would be displayed. Her friends needed to see every bit of detail, she wanted to hear them faun over everything. She even included a picture of Regulus sitting on his bed, smiling wide with pride.

“I think I need to make some arrangements for tonight,” she hinted at Regulus, who knew exactly what she meant. His very own first magic celebration, with cake! And of course, his very own practice wand.


	32. Fledgling

With Narcissa’s eleventh birthday in May, this would be the first year the three would attend Hogwarts together. A surprise had been waiting for them at the platform, Orion and Walburga had shown up with their cousins. This would be the first year since the boys were born that none of their closest cousins would be around. When they accompanied their mother to Black Manor, there would not be anyone to play with or entertain them - unless there was a party going on. Things would get significantly more boring.

At a self assured thirteen, Bellatrix was itching to get away from the adults in her life. The sooner she was on the train the better. Off to Hogwarts and her friends. She had physically distanced herself from the rest of the family, standing on the edge of the group, discreetly scanning the crowded platform for people she was more interested in. There was not much point in listening when she already had her father’s entire speech memorized. She sighed in boredom, willing the train to whistle.

“Bellatrix!” snapped Cygnus. “Pay attention!”

“I am,” she protested. With no way to read her mind, he could not know for certain. Bella swallowed another sigh and resisted the urge to roll her eyes, “Our position in society means other people are constantly scrutinizing us. We are models to all but a small and privileged few. While at Hogwarts, we are expected to be careful about whom we associate with. Our behavior reflects on the entire family.” She stared back at her father, face blank, something she had worked hard at cultivating for occasions such as these. It would still count as a mark against her, but if he was unable to read her face, he would be less likely to retaliate. 

Finally, he spoke. “You would do well to remember to behave,” before returning to his lecture. Bella nodded obediently, and once his attention was diverted she indulged in the eye roll. The problem was not that she was _not_ behaving. The problem was never that. The problem was that she was not behaving enough like the sort of girl her father wanted. He wished for three of Narcissa. If she was a boy, her power play would be more than acceptable, it would be expected, encouraged. However, having been born a girl, her power would only come from who she married. Bella considered it idiotic. She did not want to be like her mother; she wanted power in her own right. What was the point of power otherwise?

It was clear to Andromeda her older sister was paying little to no attention, and while she understood the urge, she was listening. She had heard this before, reminders were constant when one was a member of the Black family, but there was no real sense in not listening to her father, even if she was not entirely sure what the point of this yearly recap was, or rather a recap on the recap since the real talk was always held the night before. They had all proven themselves competent at remembering important things. The minutes ticked by as the rules were listed out. Andromeda liked rules for the most part, they kept things and people orderly. Everything and everyone had a place. That was what rules were for, something she had determined a long time ago. This seemed merely a way to pass the time until the train could be boarded. They could not very well stand on the platform silently, not even looking at one another, although it might have been a more accurate representation. 

A little way away she could hear a mother telling her son how much she loved him and how both her and his father would miss him. Andy sneaked a peek; it looked so happy. The boy was her or Bella’s age, pretending to not to enjoy the declaration of love. He had a younger sister who was probably heading to Hogwarts next year, she looked younger than Cissy. They were all talking to one another, and every snippet sounded happy. Even when the boy was protesting affection. A strong contrast to Cygnus’ serious voice. It might be nice to have a parent who said nice things on the platform, but Andy shook that thought right out of her mind. That sort of affection was _not_ meant to be shown in public. She chose to ignore her mind’s followup, that she had never seen her parents behave that way.

If she did not count the night before, this was the first time Narcissa had really listened to Cygnus’ talk. It was the first time she heard it while standing on platform nine and three quarters in any case, she had not bothered to pay attention to what he had told her sisters the past two years; it had not been directed to her and she had been dealing with losing first one sister and then the other. But this year, as a Hogwarts attendee, it was directed to her as well, and as a dutiful daughter, she paid close attention.

Nothing was new from the night before, and it was all sentiment she heard often, understood, and fully agreed with. They were a certain class of people and so could not and would not go around associating with riff-raff. Narcissa had never met any so called riff-raff, but the way her family talked about them, she was positive she would be able to tell the difference. She was convinced they were likely to be hideously ugly, undoubtably poor, shabby looking and would most likely smell. They would not know what to do with a wand, and were likely to stick it up their noses because they were stupid and uninformed. It would be easy to stay away from riff-raff.

Not that it would matter much, no one in Slytherin would ever fall into that category. The only other acceptable house would be Ravenclaw, and she did not believe the house description fit her. Or at least, she considered both her sisters to be smarter than she was and they had both been sorted into Slytherin. One of Bella’s friends had been sorted into Ravenclaw and that was Cissa’s biggest worry, that one of her best friends would be sorted into a different house.

Cygnus would have agreed with his youngest, she was not a Ravenclaw. She read far less than her older two sisters and they had gone into Slytherin. Where else would she go? She was not brave, nor would he want a child who went into the house that had been deteriorating recently, and no pureblood worth their salt was sorted into Hufflepuff. Plus, as a budding young socialite, the only place would be his former house.

“Narcissa, I fully expect you to be sorted into Slytherin-“

“It’s the best house,” Narcissa interrupted, then, realizing what she had done, blushed a furious shade of fuchsia and stared at the ground. Cygnus almost forgot to be mad at her, pleased with her embarrassed reaction. That was how a girl was supposed to react if she spoke out of turn.

“Don’t interrupt me,” he ordered, almost forgetting not the same as forgetting. “It’s the most prestigious house and you are from an important family. Slytherin will be the best fit, keep that in your mind while you are being sorted. Do you understand?”

Cissa nodded, “yes, sir.”

Cygnus’ mouth made a barely discernible twitch upward, in time with the train whistle signaling it was time to board.

Bella rushed through her goodbyes, not interested in spending any more time than absolutely necessary. Sirius and Regulus got hugs, and she almost got a spell in the face from the former. He had gotten a new play wand over the summer, replacing the one he had gotten for doing his first magic - it had not even lasted a year. Now that he could do minor magic he was a little terror; the fact his magic was unpredictable at best only made it worse. However, Bellatrix had much faster reflexes.

“Do that to either of my sisters,” she whispered as she hugged him, “and come the Yule hols, I will make you wish you hadn’t.”

Sirius was tempted to do it anyhow, but he knew from experience Bella carried through on all her threats, no matter how vague. And knowing Bella, she would do something like turn all his presents to slush and then manage to blame it on him. Or, turn Regulus’ presents to slush, blame him and get his wand taken away for a long time.

He carefully considered his options before making a decision. “I won’t if you send me sweets from Hogsmeade.”

Bellatrix wrinkled her nose and gave him a long hard look, before nodding curtly. She had already been planning on sending her cousins treats, which meant she had not had to promise anything in order to get him to stop. Sirius smiled brightly and in his head declared himself the winner. Plus, she had not made any stipulations about pointing his wand at Regulus so his fun was not halted, even if his mother cuffed him upside the head every time he turned Regulus’ clothes pink. Worth it.

Farewells complete, Bella headed towards the Express, friends, and freedom, not getting very far before Druella called out, “Bellatrix! Your sisters!”

Bella sighed, stopped and waited for her sisters to make their goodbyes. Her plan was to leave Cissy on Andy’s shoulders, if that. Her youngest sister was perfectly capable of following both of them into the right train car. Besides, Narcissa would be looking for her friends and knew where she was most likely to find them. Neither Andy nor Bella were likely to be able to help her find them any faster. Narcissa had a strange instinct for that kind of thing. But apparently the choice was not hers.

Andromeda did not take long to make the rounds and pretend she cared about leaving the adults behind. Narcissa took longer. Druella and Cygnus liked her best and they seemed to be a little bit genuinely sad, or nostalgic, or something, hindering Bella’s plans. If that silly Ravenclaw friend of Bernadette’s tried to take her preferred window seat because of this she was going to be upset. First come, first serve was for lesser people.

Narcissa would miss her parents at least a little bit. They treated her like a princess most of the time and Andy had already explained to her that sort of treatment was unlikely to be bestowed upon her at Hogwarts. Some professors, such as Head of Slytherin, Horace Slughorn, recognized the importance of surnames, but apparently most professors did not. She would be treated the same as everyone else, a horrid thought.

Finally, she pulled away from her parents to follow her sisters onto the train, house elves dutifully following them laden down with their belongings. As soon as they were out of sight of the platform, Bella was off towards her friends.“See you at sorting!” she called behind her as she headed into the crowd. “If you need anything, I’m in compartment four.”

“Do you want help finding a compartment? Or your friends?” Andy asked Narcissa, skeptically.

“No, I’ll just - Callista! Davina!” Cissa spotted her closest friends and waved them over to her, noticing several other girls her age following behind them. It looked as if she would be holding court. “You go sit with your friends. We’ll find a compartment on our own, and I know where Bella is.”

Andy nodded, “I’ll be nearby too, once Briony and I find a compartment.”

Cissa smiled at her older sister and then addressed her friends, “Shall we find an empty compartment?” She would deal with the others in a moment. She knew establishing a pecking order on the train would save her trouble in the dormitory. She knew all the other eleven year olds going off to Hogwarts with her, and knew which ones she thought she wanted to live with. They might be assigned dorm rooms, but she remembered Bellatrix had demanded a change her first year, so there was no reason she could not wheedle one out herself, should she need one. Perhaps she would decide they were all equally pleasant or unpleasant prospective roommates and the lucky two girls chosen to live with her and her best friends would just be the lucky pick of the draw. Callista and Davina were obviously non-negotiable.

She gave a few thoughts to how roommates could possible be selected, while they looked for a compartment. Random? Alphabetical? That would guarantee her and Callista and Davina in the same room, but random meant no guarantees. Maybe Slughorn orchestrated it, and he had some idea how everything worked. He was approved of, after all. Or maybe the prefects sorted that out, and they certainly understood social dynamics. In any case, she was only going to room with who she wanted to. She had rights.

Once a compartment was found, Narcissa had to do some quick thinking about how she was going to socialize with everyone. The compartment would not fit all of them, not comfortably, and there was no reason to squeeze in everyone. Whoever fought for the first spots would show they wanted to be there the most, but it could also mean they were undesirable social climbers. It was impossible to only have friends from families equal with her own, in fact, Callista was not, but Callista was similar to her, and she did not act like an obnoxious social climber. Callista’s family might capitalize on the friendship, but that was only to be expected, and they did it in a sensible, unobtrusive way.

“There isn’t enough room for everyone,” Davina announced, looking pointedly at the others, before choosing a seat near the window. Narcissa sat across, and Callista sat down next to Narcissa. Most of the other girls hesitated, except Asphodel Parkinson, who took the seat next to Davina. Narcissa decided she could stay for taking initiative. One of the other girls made a move to sit next to Callista and Davina snorted in derision. That move was only going to work the one time. The girl looked half offended for a moment, and then caught herself, squeezing back through the door. Narcissa was sure she would be back, and was probably watching to see which of the girls would be picked.

“Glynnis, stay,” Davina suggested. “And you too.” She pointed at both girls so there was no confusion.

Glynnis Wilkes happily took the seat next to Callista, with the other girl filing in next to Asphodel. All the other girls vacated the doorway of the compartment, probably to find their own as near as possible to keep an eye on the door. Narcissa felt slightly bad that she had not given an immediate chance to Isadora Pucey, but their relationship had never really been the same after that missed invitation.

Once the door had closed behind the last girl, small talk commenced, the how are you and how is your family and are you looking forward to starting Hogwarts. Narcissa felt like she ought to really take control of the situation, but now that it was actually happening, it seemed a daunting task to figure out who to live with. Compartmentalizing everyone seemed so easy when she watched her mother do it, regulating each person into their place in society and how that dictated their treatment. It never seemed to matter that she had known everyone for years, if someone made a mistake, things changed. everything fell into place. Narcissa had watched and had some practice, with her mother at her side, but now, she was expected to do it all by herself.

“I heard your oldest sister has been the frustration of the upper classes these past couple of years,” Asphodel started, moving on to something other than trivial small talk. “My older brother says Bellatrix refuses to follow the common room hierarchy. Not that it surprises me, your sister has always sort of been that way, hasn’t she? But the real question is, are you going to follow it?”

Cissa was taken aback by the question, she had not even considered she would have to follow different rules while at Hogwarts. She vaguely remembered Bella hinting at such things, but she had not thought how it would apply to her.

“I…” she started and immediately stopped, unsure how to answer, or what sort of answer would be expected, and she certainly could not admit she had not thought about it. Or even worse, that she did not really know about it.

“Oh.” Asphodel said. “Right. Of course you wouldn’t want to share your plans with us.”

The two made eye contact and Narcissa realized that the other girl had lied. Realizing Narcissa was not sure about the subject, instead of outing her, had allowed her an out. Nice of her.

The other two girls started chattering with Callista about the hierarchy Asphodel mentioned, probably since Callista had two older siblings already at Hogwarts. Callista handled the questions with ease, and Asphodel piped in with information as well. Davina also had an older brother, but he was only a year older than Bella so that was not very helpful. While it did not surprise Narcissa that her sisters did not pay attention to things the way they were supposed to, it was frustrating. They were supposed to be able to be of assistance. But Bella had always spent far too much time with the boys her age than the girls, and goodness only knew what she would do at parties if left to her own devices. And Narcissa knew Andromeda would rather spend time reading than socializing. Which was worrying, friends were important and her sister could not make do with only her sisters and Briony Rookwood. Hopefully Andy was making other friends at school, Narcissa would be sure to keep an eye on it. She could always help.

The conversation was enlightening, even as it was disheartening. Narcissa had not thought about how as a first year she would be at the bottom of a social structure. That was impossible; she was a Black. It went against everything she had ever learned. But everyone here was insinuating Hogwarts had it’s own social hierarchy. Part of Narcissa liked the idea, a whole new society to navigate and be on top in - for nothing other than the top would do in the end, and part of her was absolutely horrified that she was going to not automatically be the best of the best. Since it sounded like Bellatrix had found a way to circumnavigate it, she was going to need to have a chat with her sister. 

“I shouldn’t monopolize your time, and I promised my brother I would stop by his compartment, prove I didn’t immediately fall off the train,” Asphodel Parkinson broke in abruptly. It was hardly as elegant as Narcissa would have liked, a smooth transition showed the sign of a skilled player in society, but it did remind Narcissa she had other girls to talk to, a decision to be made.

“Oh, Asphodel,” she started, “on your way to see your brother, can you tell some of the others they should stop by?” She was rather pleased with her segue way, dismissing the other girls without having to talk to them. While Asphodel might have put it in motion, she was still handling it better.

“After I’m done with my family obligations, maybe I could pop back in, and we could continue our chat?”

Narcissa had promised Callista and Davina they would discuss the matter of their fourth and fifth dorm mates together. She had promised, but that had been before the train ride. If she was going to be the Queen Bee, something her mother had been training her for, she could not rely on them to help make all her decisions. Queen Bee was a one person position, she needed to assert herself now.

“Yes.” Narcissa replied, definitively, smiling at Asphodel. “I would enjoy that.”

Everyone in the compartment realized immediately there remained only _one_ open spot in Narcissa Black’s dorm.


	33. Fly Without Falling

The other first year girls got the opportunity to present themselves as the rest of the train ride passed. Eventually, Narcissa cast the deciding vote in the matter, for Glynnis Wilkes. She had a brief moment of guilt about not picking Isadora Pucey, but there was nothing to be done now, and Isadora had been so boring today. She would spend time with everyone, spending time with only four others would be deathly dull, but not everyone could be treated the same. Hogwarts dorm mates were likely to be bridesmaids later. 

Decision made, little time was left before they pulled into Hogsmeade. A prefect came around to check on everyone, greeting them, and welcoming them to Slytherin, assuming the sorting was a mere formality for this particular compartment. Narcissa, Davina, and Callista, now joined by Asphodel and Glynnis, moved on to other important things, like how to decorate their dorm. 

Nothing had been entirely decided upon by the time the train came to a stop at Hogsmeade station, but it could be saved for later, once they saw the room. As the students departed from the train, she heard someone calling for the first years and headed that direction. 

“First years! No more then four to a boat!”

The man calling did not look like the giant ugly man Bellatrix had described two years ago. This man was big, but he looked normal. Not the probable half breed that had led her oldest sister’s procession across the lake.

In the train, Narcissa had instructed Asphodel and Glynnis to ride separately, they would meet up later, in the dorm. It had not been out of any sense of kindness to the rest of her year, everyone already knew who the lucky two were. Bella had promised seats with her for Narcissa, Callista and Davina. With all the new information on the Slytherin social scene, she did not want to press her luck. Not until she knew how to do it properly. Hearing they could only sit four to a boat, Narcissa felt extra confident in her decision. They could not sit five to a boat. Better to keep the new girls together. 

The three clambered into one of the boats and when a girl they did not recognize tried to take the last seat, Narcissa informed her, under no uncertain terms, that the spot was taken. None of them were going to risk someone inappropriate sitting in a boat with them. Besides, the man had said, _no more_ than four, not four to a boat. No reason to fill the last spot.

“I’m Tiberon Ogg, Hogwarts groundskeeper,” their guide introduced himself. “As you can see, Hogwarts is right ahead.”

Hogwarts was able to distract them for a moment, but they easily swung back to conversation. After his brief introduction, the groundskeeper stayed silent most of the ride, letting the first years talk amongst themselves. As they drew up nearer to the castle, all the boats fell silent in awe. Narcissa could not help but be impressed herself, even if the castle looked like it was not entirely planned, slightly hodge-podge.

It was not long before they disembarked and headed towards the front door, Narcissa making the same note her sisters had, those who did not know much about magic seemed to run to the front. She did not need to push her way to the front, she was happy strolling leisurely along, continuing her conversation, despite the excitement and nerves growing in the pit of her stomach Proper young ladies did not run ahead the way these others were. Number one, if she slipped and fell on the grass, she would have grass stains on her clothes in front of everyone later. Number two, there were mudbloods up there and she was not going to stand with mudbloods. She had been raised better. 

Only a few moments passed before the doors swung open to reveal a strict looking woman with a rather severe bun. Narcissa thought the woman could be a lot prettier if she did something different with her hair. Having her hair frame her face would soften her features. Cissa knew all about this, some of her mother’s friends did things like that to look younger. It could be difficult to walk the fine line between looking younger and having age appropriate hair, but surely there was a better choice than a simple and severe boring bun. 

Bun collected them and led them to a small antechamber off the hallway, squeezing the lot of them into the smallish room. It was crowded, she could almost feel the breaths of others. What if her carefully put together outfit got rumpled before she stood before everyone in the Great Hall?

Luckily, all the people around her were girls she knew, no one who could be considered questionable, but she still wanted their stay in this room to be extremely short. Or she might have to pretend to faint and get out of there. Although, that would require falling on the floor and Merlin only knew how clean that was. Hogwarts was much bigger than Black Manor, maybe the house elves could not clean everywhere, every day. 

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” Bun woman said. “I am Professor McGonagall, deputy headmistress and Professor of Transfiguration. The start of term feast will begin shortly. Before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into houses. The Sorting Ceremony is important, for the seven years you are here, your house will be something like your family. You will have classes with your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend much of your free time in your house common room. The four houses are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin.”

Narcissa could not help but brighten at the mention of Slytherin house.

“Each house has a long and noble history, having produced outstanding witches and wizards. During your time at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn house points, while rule breaking will lose them. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup. I trust that each of you will be a credit to your house.”

Some of the other first years had started to chatter about the houses, and Professor McGonagall was forced to regain order with a “Quiet, please.” She waited until everyone was silent, following up with instructions, “They are ready for you in the Great Hall. Form a line and follow me.”

Another set of doors were pushed open and the Great Hall opened up before them. 

It was everything her sisters had described: the four tables stretching almost the length of the room, the professors sitting at a table at the head of the room, the bright banners and flags that proclaimed the houses, the giant Hogwarts emblem above the staff table. The ceiling was impossibly high and she could not help her eyes flying wide in awe of the enchantments placed upon it. It really did look like the sky outside, which was very impressive and she wondered if they would learn that exact spell. It might be nice to have the ceiling of her room sometimes look like the outside, or maybe for a party.

Narcissa caught a glimpse of her sisters at the Slytherin table as she headed towards the front. They were sitting across from one another with their best friends on either side of them. Around them, a group of Bella’s friends that Narcissa recognized from social events. She could clearly see room for her and her friends to sit down in the middle of it all.

“If you get sorted before me, go sit with my sisters,” Narcissa whispered to her friends. Apparently the sorting hat did not always call people in proper alphabetical order. 

They stopped at the front of the room, spreading out a bit in front of the staff table, the four house tables behind them. Between them and the professors sat a shabby looking hat on a stool. _That_ was the sorting hat? It looked so… so… _dirty_. As if it was about to fall apart at any second. How could _that_ be the all important sorting hat? And the stool was merely a normal stool, not nearly grand enough for such an occasion. What were these people thinking? If Narcissa owned _that_ hat, no matter that it was a wizarding community heirloom, she would never have allowed it to be seen in public. As she scrutinized the set up and found more things lacking, the hat opened its mouth and began to sing.

__  
Time has faded black to brown  
My brim a weathered look  
Each year my point sinks down a bit  
from sitting in my nook 

_But I’m not dusty from neglect_  
Though I’ve been around for years  
The founders put their brains in me  
To see between your ears. 

_Each wizard has a favorite hat_  
The one they more than like  
But only one can change your life  
And that all starts tonight. 

_Are you like Godric Gryffindor?_  
Do you believe in being brave?  
Lions' nerves of steel and daring hearts  
Remind of knights of latter day. 

_Are you a student who is just and loyal?_  
Strong of back and true of heart?   
Hard working badgers fill our house  
Approved by Helga Hufflepuff. 

_Books surrounded lovely Ravenclaw_  
She thought learning made one great.  
Like eagles our witty ones adore  
Knowledge allows the mind to soar 

_The purest blood fills up the house of snakes_  
And takes the minds who’re shrewdest  
Salazar Slytherin appreciated best  
The cunning and ambitious. 

_The houses four I have described_  
Where does your path now lead?  
It’s time to put me on your head  
I’ll sort you all indeed.  


Narcissa was not impressed. Talking inanimate objects were a common party trick. Plus she already knew everything she needed to know about Slytherin, the rest was immaterial. But she still clapped alongside everyone else when the hat stopped singing.

Professor McGonagall unfurled a long sheet of parchment. “When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted. Jorkins, Bertha.”

“HUFFLEPUFF!” yelled the hat and the first person of the day headed towards the cheering yellow table.

Apparently the sorting was not going to happen in alphabetical order this year. Jorkins was the middle of the alphabet! There would be no way of knowing who was next. 

“Patil, Savitr.”

“RAVENCLAW!”

“Abercrombie, Brutus.”

A meek looking boy headed towards the stool and Narcissa immediately brushed him off as a Hufflepuff. When the hat yelled out the name of that house, she was pleased to have been correct.

“Black, Narcissa.”

She gave smiles to both of her friends before making her way towards the front of the room, approaching the hat and the dust that was sure to land on her hair. She did not want to put it on her head. She had brushed her hair one hundred and fifty times before she had left the house, on the train she had given it a touch up of fifty brushes, and right before they had come inside the Great Hall, she had smoothed her hair down with her hands. Cissa hopped up on the stool, placing the hat very gently on her head, maybe that would keep the dust off her hair.

“I’m not dusty,” an offended voice said into her mind. “Another Black. Third one in three years.”

“My older sisters,” Narcissa told it with pride.

“Ahh, quite loyal to them I see. A Hufflepuff maybe?”

Narcissa shrieked silently in her head, schooling her features to remain calm on the outside. But she could not help panicking slightly about what would happen if she became a Hufflepuff. Bellatrix hated Hufflepuffs and would probably never speak to her again. Not to mention her father.

“Don’t worry so much,” the hat admonished before yelling out, “SLYTHERIN!”

Narcissa sighed with relief and happily hopped off the stool, brushing off her hair and dress, as she ran over to sit next to Bellatrix. 

“You would think the headmaster would do something to make the hat nicer.”

Bellatrix snorted in derision and went back to paying attention to the sorting. Honestly, Narcissa could not see what was so interesting about it, especially knowing Bella hardly cared about society at all. Narcissa cared about her friends, but she certainly did not care about Rosaline Davies being sorted into Ravenclaw or Coinneach McLaggen being sorted into Gryffindor. She was glad to hear a friend of hers called next.

“Avery, Davina.”

“SLYTHERIN!”

A cheer broke out all along the table and Cissa cheered and clapped right alongside them, right until Davina came and sat down next to her. The group of first years got smaller and smaller, and as Vance, Annabella was sorted into Ravenclaw, Narcissa found herself picking at the edges of her skirt. She was only waiting on Callista now, Asphodel and Glynnis were down at the end of the Slytherin table. 

“Bella?” Cissy asked, “You seem to be paying a lot of attention to the sorting.”

“You aren’t the only sibling being sorted. Evan’s brother, and Isolde’s-”

“Rosier, Kristos.”

Bella paused, watching while the boy went and put the hat on his head. “SLYTHERIN,” the hat cried out, and Bella continued. “Just making sure they end up where they should.”

The younger Rosier boy came and plunked himself down next to Evan who cuffed his brother on the shoulder and ruffled his hair, clearly pleased his younger brother had come to join him. Cissa was glad she did not have an older brother if they did things like ruffling hair. 

When “Greengrass, Callista,” was called, Narcissa almost cheered. The minute Callista came to join them, they could go back to talking about the dorm room, because everyone who would be in her dorm would be safely sorted into Slytherin. Everything was silent for a few moments before the hat yelled out, “SLYTHERIN!” Callista came to join them, sitting herself next to Davina. Now, they could put their heads together and chat without disturbing the others around them. 

They paused only to pay attention to Jasper Nott, the brother of Bella’s best friend, being sorted. The hat seemed to hem and haw for a while over him, before finally settling on “SLYTHERIN.” He looked relieved. So did Isolde. 

“Our father said nothing but Slytherin, I was worried he’d end up in Ravenclaw.”

“No worries now,” Bella told her friend, smiling as the boy came to sit with them. 

As Glynnis’ twin brother Griffin was sorted into Slytherin she tuned out and only caught snippets. Not that there was much left, fortunately. Her stomach was starting to grumble with hunger. Completely unseemly. Thorfinn Rowle came to Slytherin. Margaret Skeeter went to Ravenclaw, and finally Kathleen Hooper was sorted into Gryffindor. Sorting was over.

Narcissa felt slightly sorry for those who were near the end. Luckily she had been called near the beginning when everyone was paying attention.

Someone swept the hat and stool away, while the Headmaster made a speech in what seemed like gibberish. Distraction soon appeared in the form of food. Never had she had this many options at a meal before, she ate what was placed in front of her, which was what her mother had told the house elves to make. It was almost overwhelming to be able to decide, opting instead to copy Bella, eating exactly as her older sister did.


	34. Cast a Stone Across the Water

Andromeda had never quite managed it last year, although not for want of thinking about it. If she was truly honest with herself, the idea frightened her. Of course, she also had to identify who in her year was mudbloods. If she was going to ask a mudblood where they got their magic, she did have to ask an actual mudblood.

Obviously, there were no mudbloods in Slytherin house, nor, in fact, even a halfblood. She had to go outside her house to ask the question, and it felt like she spent all her waking hours in the company of her housemates and she wasn’t going to ask in front of them. 

Identifying mudbloods had been surprisingly difficult. The way her father had always talked, it had sounded as if it would be easy to spot them. She knew there were some in her year, she could remember people looking confused and amazed on the platform, and on their way to the sorting ceremony. Probably, because everyone wore essentially matching robes now, they were able to blend in more.

But, if she had to ask someone, then she was admitted she lacked the skill to know bloodline, which seemed like a skill she was supposed to know, everyone else always seemed to know. It was possible they were only pretending like she was, but she couldn’t be certain. It was also possible, though distressing that she was stupid in this very important way, and no one would know unless she mentioned it, therefore she couldn’t mention it. 

It had taken some doing, but she knew who the mudbloods in her year were. One boy in Gryffindor, two girls in Ravenclaw, five in Hufflepuff - two girls, three boys. No surprise that Hufflepuff had more mudbloods, it was the house that took all the rest. Originally, she had thought the girls would be the easiest to talk to, particularly the Ravenclaws, because she had pureblood friends in Ravenclaw. But those two had become fast friends, and never left each other’s side. Andromeda did not want to ask _two_ mudbloods where they got their magic, one would do. Plus it would be harder to keep it a secret if she talked to two of them, and eventually she had to rule out both the Ravenclaw girls, and the Hufflepuff girls. 

That left the boys, and the Gryffindor was obviously not the correct choice. Meaning she would have to try to catch one of the three Hufflepuffs by himself. At first she thought, maybe when returning to the dorms, the entrance to Hufflepuff wasn’t that far from the entrance to Slytherin, and then ruled it out due to too many people. Same with before or after class with the Hufflepuffs. She concocted an elaborate plan to talk to one in private, and then realized for her plan to work, she would have to talk to the Hufflepuff beforehand and she wasn’t going to talk to one of them twice. 

It was going to have to be whoever she caught in a private place first. 

When she came round a corner in the library, looking to grab a book for her potions essay, and practically ran into him, she was dumbfounded. Her chance had come!

“Hi,” the boy said.

“Where did you get your magic?” she asked him, quickly, before she could worry herself into forgetting about it. 

“What?” The boy looked confused.

“You are a mudblood aren’t you?”

“Yes.”

His tone took her by surprise. He had dirty blood, and he had agreed like it didn’t mean anything in particular. At least he wasn’t denying facts. 

“Where did you get your magic?” she asked again. 

He shrugged. “I don’t know, where did you get yours?”

“From my parents,” Andromeda replied, insulted. Where else could she had possibly gotten it? She was from a magical bloodline. 

“Then I guess I got mine from my parents too.”

“Your parents are muggles. They don’t _have_ any magic.”

The boy shrugged again. “Beats me then.”

“You didn’t steal the magic from someone?”

“How do you steal magic?”

That was a point she hadn’t considered, and didn’t know how to answer. How would someone steal magic? She had no idea, only that she needed to be careful to make sure no one stole hers. 

“I wouldn’t know. Pureblood witches do not need to know how to steal magic because we are born with it.”

“I guess you wouldn’t,” he agreed. “But I’ve had magic for as long as I can remember.”

“Did your parents steal it for you?”

“I don’t think so.”

She gave him a severe questioning look. 

“They were pretty confused with Professor McGonagall showed up to tell us I’d been accepted into Hogwarts. If they had stolen magic, wouldn’t they have already known I had magic? They thought I had some kind of disease.”

Andromeda wrinkled up her nose, this conversation was definitely not helping. His logic was sound. But how did a mud blood happen if there were not muggles stealing magic?

The boy thought that she had not understood what he said. “See, weird stuff had been happening, ever since I was eight or nine, I can’t really remember now, but my folks didn’t know what it was. I saw doctors, and they didn’t know. Our priest didn’t know. My parents got desperate and took me to a psychic. No one could tell us what was going on. And then, I turned eleven, and a couple of days later, McGonagall knocked on the door, said I was a wizard, and I had been accepted to Hogwarts. Until she showed up, we didn’t even know magic was real. You know, statute of secrecy and all that.”

This only served to confuse Andromeda further. Of course the muggles could not know about magic because of the statute of secrecy. Muggles weren’t allowed to know. And rogue accidents were cleaned up by the Ministry department designed for cleaning up such things so that muggles would not remember the magic they had seen. His parents wouldn’t have known about magic; how could they steal something they didn’t know existed? 

There would have to be muggles who did remember magic, and then gave the magic to random muggle children, in order to make sure they weren’t found out. “What about another muggle? Not your parents?”

The boy pondered her question. “Like one of my uncles or something?”

“Anyone. Maybe you have never met them. Could any muggle have stolen magic and given it to you?”

“I guess,” he looked doubtful as he said it. “If that’s what happened, it wasn’t anyone I know. All my other family just think I go to a fancy boarding school because of the secrecy."

“Really?” she asked, before she realized that was not along the path of her questioning. She did not want to know about his family or his life, she had only meant to ask him about the magic.

“They’re all muggles so I can’t tell them. McGonagall explained it all when she came to tell us about Hogwarts. My parents had to sign things saying they wouldn’t tell anyone because it’d endanger me and the entire magical community. They don’t really get the whole wizard thing though.”

“Oh,” was all Andromeda could think of to say. How weird to not be able to talk about Hogwarts! That was what everyone wanted to hear about from her. How was Hogwarts? Asking about the professors they had when they were in school, complaining about the ones they thought were too much in favor of muggles. How were her classes? Was her wand work coming along well? What would she have to say to the adults in her family if there wasn’t Hogwarts to talk about? Nothing. But she wasn’t going to start talking to him about his family. His family was made up of muggles, and they probably would want to burn her at the stake and she hadn’t learned the right protection spells yet. It had nothing to do with the conversation. 

Instead, she started looking at the books on the shelves in front of her, looking for a book on the potion ingredient she had chosen for her essay. 

“Did McGonagall come to your house to tell you about Hogwarts?” The boy asked her, as if they had been having a conversation, which they most certainly had not. 

“Why would she do that? My sister was already at Hogwarts.”

“Did McGonagall come to tell your sister about Hogwarts?”

“That would be stupid. Magic is _normal_ in my family. I’m a Black, we’ve always been magical.”

She overemphasized the point and he grew silent at the tone of her voice. They both stared in silence at the shelves in front of them. Probably he was here for the same essay, probably Slughorn had assigned it to all the second year students. She was getting a head start, even though it was not due until next week. There was always a lot of homework and she felt better when things were crossed off her to do list. He probably liked something similar if he was getting his materials so early. Andromeda had always assumed Hufflepuffs would wait until the last minute to do things, maybe it took him longer because he didn’t know anything.

She crouched down to get a better look at the bottom shelf, and when he did the same, she turned and glared at him. He wasn’t paying any attention, having found the book he wanted. Good, then he would leave. 

Except the book he grabbed was the book she’d been looking for.

“I’m doing tansy! That’s my book!” she cried out in dismay, not wanting to change her herb.

He looked at her strangely, and she thought he was going to yell, or tell her to pick something else, or laugh, or all three. But he did not. He looked at her, then at the book.

“Here,” he said, holding out the book to her. “I can do mine on mugwort.”

She snatched the book, securing it in her book bag, in case he changed his mind. She had another book to locate in another section, and it was high time she got out of there. She needed to get away from the mudblood, who couldn’t even tell her where his magic had come from. Thank Merlin no one had seen them together. 

Andromeda did not get very far down the aisle before she turned and walked back to him. He might have been a Hufflepuff mudblood, and in the grande scheme of things, not worth much, and maybe he had stolen magic, or someone had stolen it for him, and maybe her conversation with him had ended up with more questions then answers, and maybe he asked really stupid questions everyone already knew the answers too, but her mother had raised her to have manners. Those manners were for society and not Hufflepuff mudbloods, because of course he was supposed to given her the book, but it felt wrong to walk away without thanking him. 

“Thank you…” she said, a moment of hesitation, when she realized she did not know his name. One was supposed to thank by name, but it didn’t matter this time, he was a mudblood and she wasn’t supposed to know his name. He was lucky she was thanking him at all. 

“Ted,” he supplied. “Ted Tonks.”

She stared at him for half a second, before spitting out “Andromeda Black,” and hurried away, down the aisle.

Either she wasn’t fast enough, or he spoke much too loudly, “You’re welcome, Andromeda Black.”


	35. Alea Iacta Est

It had been seven years since he tried to take the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Only a fool would say no. Dumbledore was that fool. A setback was not a setback when he knew he would live forever. He could wait; he had all the time in the world. His old schoolmates only too glad to see him.

It had only taken that one question, what if?

What if you could have a completely pureblood world? 

The desire was so clear on their faces, the legilmency he had planned, pointless. When he mused over the possibilities, he could see they would follow him. He had proven himself enough in school, he was related to Salazar Slytherin himself; it made it all plausible. He _could_ give them this world, and they would follow his lead. 

He had been gone a long time, learning, perfecting. Those things had written themselves into his face, his skin; he had changed. The boy had been left behind, the prefect and head boy. Separated and preserved, lingering on, should he choose to revisit it for the memories. Now he was taller, leaner, colder. His skin had grown paler over the years, lack of sun and magical experiments. Apparently, when one tore apart the soul, it reflected itself in the body. He didn’t think about it much. It only served to prove he had the abilities to do what he said. But he had assumed they would not recognize him, sometimes he did not recognize himself. His looks mattered little to him, but they had mattered to those he had known in school, and he would need them. Or rather, he would need their prejudice. 

He could have gone another route, gathered the muggles together, a natural overlord to the masses. But they were not of one mind. He knew little about them and cared nothing to learn more. His father had been a muggle and what good had that done him? At least his uncle had been able to fight back. That was why he had not killed Morfin. That, and Morfin was doomed to be his own downfall. 

Magic was a right to those worthy. More sense to get rid of the unworthy. He could rule over any, why not rule over the more superior? The pure of blood were strong, plentiful, and would not shy away from using spells that barely qualified as legal. He could coax them into the others. They had the Ministry connections, and sooner or later he would need the Ministry under his control. Not to be Minister, he would give that to the faithful, a coveted position, generously given. But meaningless; he would rule behind the scenes. 

These were haughty, prideful people. He had to play by their rules, until he could make the rules, as their savior. 

The original plan had been the children. Start his own club, like Slughorn, but secret. Minds were malleable, by the time they graduated he would have loyal followers. They were all interconnected, sooner or later he would have them all. It would have taken a decade or more of teaching. And he would have had to go by his father’s name. Even Headmaster Dippet would not have allowed his new title.

By refusing him the position, Dumbledore had saved him time, forced to hunt down his former schoolmates. He had met with a few before, mostly to convince Dumbledore he had contacts in the area; he was staying in England, for now. When he was declined, he realized there was a better way. 

Start with the heads of the families. They might not be as reckless and ready to kill as the younger generation, these were men who had learned to determine things through money and favors. Their sons were another story, their sons would be ready to prove themselves. A willing army for his purposes.

It started small. Nott. Mulciber. Rosier. Dolohov. Lestrange and Avery were added soon after. Those six spread the word. 

“Would you like a world where there are no mubloods? No muggles?”

The answer was always yes.

“I know a man who can make it happen.” 

Malfoy. Black. Parkinson.

Family after family. One after another.

Wilkes. Yaxley. Selwyn.

The same questions. The same answer.

Rookwood. Burke. Flint.

I know a man because we know a man. Word spread.

Montague. Gibbon. Runcorn.

In order to change the world things had to be taken slow, information could not fall into the wrong hands.

Gamp. Carrow. Zabini.

Could not fall into Dumbledore’s hands. 

Crabbe. Goyle. Macnair.

Now, when someone said they would not stand for it any longer, it was code to one another.

Bulstrode. Pucey. Rowle.

“I am in. I am involved. Are you?”

Six turned into twelve, turned into twenty-four, turned into fifty, turned into all the pureblood families that could be trusted. Some families were left out. Only those who believed in the cause That’s what it was called now: the cause. 

It had taken seven years. Seven years and now secrets poured in from the Ministry. Some unwilling participants, who held useful position. No one had hesitated to use the Imperius curse to get him what he wanted. And so, lives were stripped away.

It had grown too much for him to keep watch over each and everyone, keep tabs on everything everyone did. Owls were messy, not instant enough, and there would be an obvious paper trail that could fail into the wrong hands. Floo could be watched. Apparition fast and reliable, but none of them could pop around all of England all the time. Eventually, it would be noticed. 

He needed a better plan. They had come up with the codename The Knights of Walpurgis, a rudimentary thing. They had wanted a name. He, himself had agreed to nothing. 

But he did need a symbol for himself. Something that would put fear into the body of all who saw it. Something to unite his underlings. It would have to be recognizable to muggles, as something to be well away from. Walpurgis was too archaic, too many of them had forgotten. 

A symbol that defined him. There would be a serpent. Playing homage to himself and the parseltongue, a language no one else could speak, proving his superiority. Their genealogy had nothing on the fact he could link himself to Slytherin by opening his mouth. Clean. Simple. He could see their unease when he used it, not knowing what was said.

He settled on a skull as the second part. A symbol of death, something everyone knew to fear. Fitting, because it was something he had mastered but they would not. A snake slithering out of a skull. An embodiment of him conquering death. A reminder of what he had done to preserve himself. What he had done to make himself immortal. Others went after things like the Philosopher’s Stone, but that could easily be stolen or misplaced. His solution was permanent. Each separation making him stronger. Death could not sneak up on him and defeat him. A God in his own right, deciding who lived or died. 

The symbol would become the path for communication. A Protean charm, one impossible to lose. Items could be misplaced; skin was permanent. They would be connected permanently. Acceptance of the mark meant a lifetime of agreement. Only the most worthy would take it, and they would be his confidants, the inner circle. They would control the rest and he would not have to look over everything and everyone. Only the chosen few. 

They would give him sons later, provide their own replacements. Once the sons had proven themselves, they could take their father’s places. Then the real work would start. It was fine to infiltrate the Ministry, may even overthrow it that way, but sooner or later there would be fighting. Blood would be spilled and he needed young men hungry for glory in a new world.

His old schoolmates he would phase out, for they remembered him as a boy. They knew him before Lord Voldemort and that would not do. Some would never forget he was a man. The sons he would rule. 

He would write his own legacy.

He unveiled his mark to the first six, the chosen six. They adopted it without question.

“You are now Death Eaters.”

They accepted this too, without complaint, as he had known they would, explained the protean charm, how it would be burned into the arm, and they would be connected. 

All six took the mark that night. Avery. Rosier. Lestrange. Mulciber. Nott. Dolohov. Each and every one a man about it, each with sons to swell the ranks. He was pleased. He lingered where he met with them, relishing in the lingering smell of acrid burnt flesh. 

The decision was a whim. Nothing planned, but this night needed to be accounted for. Phase two needed to start. These six started a new world order in which he was emperor. It needed to be commemorated.

It was easy enough to hunt down one of the children he had been in the orphanage with. All grown up, with a family of her own. He lay in wait, but did not wait long. She came to put out the cat, and there was a flash of green light, the cat running off into the darkness in fright. 

Then, another spell, one the muggles in the area mistook for fireworks, momentarily. 

_“Morsmorde.”_

His own work. His own creation. He wanted only long enough to see it float over the house and hang, menacingly. The same skull and snake he had burned into the arms of six earlier. He smiled before disapparating, paper thin lips pulling apart to reveal sharp yellowing teeth.


	36. The Pricking of the Thumb

The longer the bloodline, the more branches of the family tree. Invariably, it meant multiple patriarchs. Of the Blacks descended from Phineas Nigellus, those were Arcturus and Pollux. By this point, all their children were grown and had provided grandchildren, as long as one discounted Alphard, who had still not settled down. Arcturus and Pollux were far too old to be considered by Lord Voldemort to join in his ranks, which left Orion and Cygnus. 

Their feelings on muggles and mudbloods well known, both had been contacted by multiple members of Voldemort’s original six to discuss the possibility of a new world order. One where they would assuredly be on top. They stood little chance of recognizing the boy they had gone to school with, despite being relatively close in age, two years his junior.

They joined. 

By all rights it would not have surprised anyone to learn that both would be welcome into Voldemort’s inner circle when the Dark Lord decided to mark the most faithful. It would shock everyone when only one was chosen. 

Bellatrix had been surprised while going downstairs at the number of people arriving at her house, her instinct to jerk back against the wall and silently watch, protected by the architecture of the house. When her father had said there would be guests tonight this was hardly what she had expected. All the fathers of her friends and more. Every family in Slytherin looked represented. Her father had opened up the entire front garden for apparation purposes. Something important was happening.

They were gathering in her father’s study, not particularly unusual, when he had guests, they went to the study. Everything else was decorated and designed for her mother’s entertaining duties, which included the large parties. The study was a place for men only. The business her father was involved in, whatever it was, was done in the study. 

Her father was in politics, as were a lot of pureblood men, but what that meant was not entirely clear. Sometimes it meant that someone was an actual member of the Ministry of Magic. They had a job and went to work every day, responsibilities and tasks to attend to. Then there were those who did not have a job, but were still always holding meetings or attending meetings and keeping a close eye on what happened. Cygnus Black was the latter, and Bellatrix could not explain what it meant, other than a lot of meetings. He always seemed to know what was going on, but his name never appeared in the Prophet when they announced things he had been talking about for months.

Even with all those meetings, never had there been this many men in the study all at once.

She should have gone back upstairs, but curiosity got the better of her. If she got caught, her father would be furious. Therefore she’d have to avoid being caught. Whatever they were going to be talking about had to be more interesting than her Ancient Runes textbook. Provided she found a way to listen in. Laying in the hallway in front of the door was dodgy, no escape in the hallway if the door was to open suddenly. Plus, the study’s walls were thick, even with her ear pressed up against the door or wall, she was doubtful in her abilities to hear anything.

Outside the window would be cold and dark, and would only work if the window was open. The best option was the dumbwaiter, the entrance in her father’s study was a grate. It was a remnant left behind from another age, another family; but it was never in use, so it would be safe. She might be able to hear something. Bellatrix raced downstairs, hoping she’d be able to hear when she yanked open the door, and she hadn’t missed anything important. It was hard to make out who was saying what, but the vocal tones sounded like introductions and pleasantries.

“Gentlemen, shall we get down to business?” Maybe Abraxas Malfoy, but she couldn’t be absolutely certain. 

General agreement rang out, and Malfoy started talking about how they were all there for one cause, and the time had come for everyone to prove unwavering in their loyalty.

Another voice, “Many of you will had read about the appearance of a spell in London a fortnight ago, reported in the Prophet as something unknown, a random attack on a muggle.”

That was unexpected and she immediately wished she read the Prophet more regularly. Generally, she skipped it entirely, because she was not interested in the gossip and society pages, and her father was less than pleased to find her reading anything else. Although, he would hardly be able to stop her from reading it at Hogwarts if she chose. That was a thought. 

“It was hardly a random _attack_.” This was a voice Bellatrix could not place. This man spoke softer than the others, but the room had gone completely silent the minute he started speaking. No rustling of robes, no errant coughs. Maybe it was to hear him better. Maybe he was the one they were all here to listen to. Maybe both. She craned her neck into the dumbwaiter shaft, having to place one of her arms on the other side for balance, to make sure she did not miss anything.

“It was an unveiling. Symbolizing the start of our dominance, uniting us in a common cause. A brand that will strike fear in the hearts of those unworthy. A beacon for your sons and the world they will inherit.”

This had nothing to do with the Ministry. It was something secret. Something she undoubtedly should not be eavesdropping on, but now she wasn’t going to leave when they were getting into interesting stuff. What symbol? Wha unveiling? What dominance? She was going to need to get herself a copy of the Daily Prophet and start paying more attention. 

“All I ask is your loyalty. Your loyalty, and when they are old enough, your sons to join the cause. Until we achieve our success.”

More agreement, and more discussion. But what were they discussing? Their own loyalties? Trying to outdo one another? That was something everyone in the room would do, it was the basis of society, one upping everyone else.

“…Death Eaters…” it might had been part of a sentence but there were too many people talking now. 

“How do we keep it covered?” questioned someone. “Can we throw a glamour over it?”

The voice she did not know spoke again. Bellatrix kept running through all the people she knew, trying to place it. Matching the voice to an exact name was unlikely, but she did generally have a feel for the voices of society, she heard them all the time. His was definitely one she did not know, which would make him an outsider. It didn’t make sense, but it certainly made him some sort of important. Maybe he was from the continent. 

“A basic glamour would not disguise it. Six amongst you pledged a fortnight ago, and their shirt sleeves have hidden it well enough. Would you want to hide your devotion to our new world?”

Was there anything he would say they would not agree with? More importantly, what was it that long sleeves would cover? Were they going to be wearing something under their shirts? On their arms? The symbol they had talked about earlier? Bellatrix wished she could _see._

“I would be proud to call each and every one of you a Death Eater, all loyal to our cause. We need everyone here to ensure our success. Tonight, I hope many of you will take the mark.”

Logic would dictate this entire group was Death Eaters. What that meant, Bellatrix had no idea. Eating death was impossible, even despite magic, wizards knew they could not live forever. Death came to everyone. 

There was more talking. Talking and it sounded like moving around. More muffled voices, maybe they had moved further from the grate. Then a slow flash of spell work, not something quick, it lingered before disappearing into the air. She had not been able to hear the spell, but most adults used non-verbal magic when possible. 

This repeated several times. A short bit of talking, followed by spell work. Some sort of ritual? An initiation? She half climbed into the chute to see if she could hear better. It improved slightly, or maybe her uncle was talking louder, because she recognized Uncle Orion’s voice. He was accepting something the one who seemed to be the leader was offering. The spell work happened again. Whatever it was, her uncle was an official member. 

Her father was next, his voice unmistakable. But something was different about this exchange. Up until now, something had been offered and accepted. But, it did not sound like anything had been offered. Background noise grew quieter, as if this was unexpected. 

“Not today, Cygnus.” The leader again.

A different voice, Rodolphus’ father, Reichard? “Lord Voldemort is not marking those without sons today.”

Bellatrix’s breath caught in her throat. It had been covered well, but there had been the slightest of pauses before today. Lord Voldemort was not planning on marking those without sons. The pause would indicate never. With three daughters, her father was not going to get marked, a definite slight and he never took insults to his pride well. She worried her lip as she thought. Her father would not be the only one without sons, but he would be in the minority. Uglier still, all of his closest associates had sons. Whatever organization this was, her father would not be one of its leaders, because of her and her sisters. At least, that would be how he would see it; assured to put him in a terribly mood for the entire Yule holiday, and they had barely arrived home. Staying to hear what else would happen was tempting, but if her father was going to be in a foul mood, her sisters needed a warning. He generally left them alone, but if they knew to avoid, Bellatrix worried less. Crawling back out, she dusted herself off, and checked herself in the mirror on the way up the back stairs.

“Father’s going to be in a foul mood,” she announced airily at the doorway of each of her sister’s rooms. “I think I will ask mother if we can have supper in my room. A sister picnic?” Her sisters raised their eyebrows, but it had been well established Bellatrix had reason to pay closer attention to their father’s moods.

Unfortunately, their mother did not see the need for such a thing. Bellatrix was hardly going to explain that she had been eavesdropping. 

“I have a very nice meal set up, for right after your father is done with his meeting. No reason for you to eat like heathens in your room when you’ve been off at Hogwarts together.”

Bellatrix hexed one of the house elves in frustration. Right after his meeting amounted to little more than a set up. Father would be angry at dinner, and there they would be, the reasons he didn’t get whatever he had wanted today. Daughters instead of sons. It was going to be a long holiday.


	37. Sharp and Sided Snow

This year the Blacks spent Christmas in the Alps. Not an every year thing, it meant being away for part of the Yule season, a prime time to show off wealth and offspring. Never too early to start thinking about future alliances, Cygnus’ eldest was already fourteen, plans would need to be put in motion as certainly she would be married by twenty. That was only six years away.

While only Cygnus and Orion’s families would stay the entire week, the entire Phineas Nigellus side had been invited. The grandparents, Great Aunt Cassiopeia and Uncle Alphard would be there most of the time, and the rest of the family would come for the few days around Christmas. A private family affair - only those directly related to them by name or marriage. Even with that stipulation, it would be quite the event.

In attendance would be the children and grandchildren of both Regulus and Lycoris Black, all much older than Bellatrix and her sisters; Lucretia and Ignatius Prewett and their offspring; Callidora and Harfang Longbottom with children and grandchildren; Charis and Caspar Crouch, despite the risk of arguments due to Caspar still refusing to denounce his nephew; and Dorea and Charlus Potter. The rest of the Potter family fell into the realm of disappointment, but Dorea was born a Black so she would remain invited, and Charlus would remain invited through her. His son was the problem, but it wouldn’t have stemmed from the Black genes. Druella’s immediate family had been invited, but most of them were not attending.

This was the rare occasion when all three girls would share a room again. The house was nothing small, but with all the family there for at least one night, there was no way to fit everyone without the youngest generation of siblings sharing space. 

Everyone’s arrival was a full day affair, no one wanted to show up right on the heels of someone else. With such a large group, and the guests arriving throughout the day, the children were spared the boredom of an endless receiving line. 

There was a nice layer of snow outside, and the children had split into teams for a full blown snowball fight. New arrivals were sent directly to one of the teams, whichever had the least, or should all things be equal, whichever was the youngest. The youngest ones did not have good control over their magic yet, and having them play against those who could hide behind forts and use magic would have made for boring games.

In the end, as the sun descended, Bellatrix’ team had been declared the winner. Originally only her and Sirius, it had grown to include some of their Black cousins, a Prewett, a Rosier, and a Longbottom girl who had ended up being the secret weapon after slithering across no mans land to get behind enemy territory. Victory was short lived the way Bellatrix saw it, her older cousins were so excited, one tackled her into a snow bank. Wasn’t the point of winning _not_ getting soaked with snow?

It would not last long, they were about to change for dinner. An hour later the three were washed and dressed, Narcissa fussing over small details such as Bellatrix having smudged her eye shadow and stubbornly refusing to fix it. Right before they left for downstairs, Bellatrix plopped herself down at the vanity and cleaned it up. 

Narcissa gave an audible sigh of relief. “I wish you wouldn’t antagonize me like that.”

“I didn’t fix it because you told me too.” It was the truth, it had been Andromeda’s pointed look that reminded her their father had not been in the best of moods and it would be wiser to blend in. Guests in the house had not stopped him in the past. 

Andy gathered up Sirius and Regulus from next door, making Sirius go back and put his jacket on, reminding him he had to make a good impression. Regulus, of course, was impeccably dressed, not a hair out of place. Even after Andromeda had Sirius properly in his jacket, Narcissa found things he needed to do in order to be more presentable. Sirius glowered the entire time. 

“Don’t look at me,” Bellatrix told him. “She did the same to us. Come out ready next time and she won’t bother you.” He didn’t stop glaring, but once Narcissa deemed him presentable, he offered his arm to Bella, saving them the trouble of arranging it. Bella sighed, Sirius was considerably shorter, but took the arm and the pair led the group downstairs to gather with the rest of the family. Andromeda couldn’t help but think this was an exercise in pointlessness. They all knew how to walk into a dining room, formal politeness was a waste when it was only family. Everyone was on their best behavior, even Sirius pulled out a chair for Narcissa and did not pull her hair in the process. 

If this was not a family affair, those still at Hogwarts would have been shuttered off in another room. Being it was only family, they had mostly been regulated down to the end of the table. Not entirely by seniority, as Bellatrix found herself seated next to her Uncle Alphard, the only unmarried older adult. 

The first few courses went splendidly. Conversations all across the table, some of them multigenerational; the Christmas spirit was alive and well. Unlikely to last even in a room of like minded individuals. By the halfway point, there was a heated discussion down at Cygnus’ part of the table. As it was not a new one, many people attempted to ignore it. Caspar Crouch was being criticized again for not ostracizing his nephew, Bartemius Crouch, who had been made the head of the Department of International Magical Cooperation. A stepping stone to Minister of Magic in the future, potentially when Millicent Bagnold stepped down. Crouch in such a position of power, should have pleased purebloods, but Bartemius Crouch eschewed society. He did not attend parties or events, his wife had not been seen in public in years, and although he had a son, no one could remember meeting him. Leaving them no indication he would go along with traditional pureblood views. 

“You put your family in a dangerous place not cutting him off,” Orion told the older gentleman.

“Is that some sort of threat?” Caspar Crouch asked incredulously. 

“It is fact,” Cygnus responded. “He’s the most visible. If he’s not trustworthy, the rest of the family will get left behind by default.”

“He’s a _nephew_. I have my own son.” He motioned down the table where Cornelius Crouch and his wife were sitting. 

“But father,” Cornelius butted into the conversation. “Barty is the one everyone sees all the time. I’m not so dense as to think his actions do not influence our treatment.”

“Are you suggesting we write him off completely? He has said nothing pro-muggle. Something you can’t say of everyone here. Don’t see much of your son in pureblood circles Charlus. I seem to recall he spoke out against banning muggle-borns from Hogwarts!”

This was an interesting paradox, considering what Bellatrix had overheard the other day. At one point all these families had been good pureblood families, otherwise her family would never have married into them, but there was more divide in society now. It was possible that not everyone here had received an invitation to that secret society. The Rosiers must have, and obviously her father and her uncle had been there. The Potters would not have received an invite, the Crouchs were unlikely, and the Prewetts and Longbottoms were a toss up.

Next to her, Uncle Alphard had lifted his fork and it hovered an inch off his plate. Her uncle’s curious look led her to believe he hadn’t been on the list. Some of her aunts had almost identical looks, staring curiously at the argument going on, various states of eating. Most of the adult attention, and the older Hogwarts students were focused on the arguing men. Arguments were hardly unusual at the Black family table, but this one seemed different. Usually the discussion did not last long, but there was something more threatening to it today. 

Someone made the argument that these were family members. Family members could still be wrong. She turned her head to catch the full response, sure the speaker would mention that family was not infallible, and caught her father’s eye, quickly looking down at her plate. She counted to twenty before raising her eyes, hoping he had re-involved himself in the discussion. Their eyes met again and his face darkened. She couldn’t understand what was so wrong with listening. Sullenly, she turned back to her food; she could hear even it she didn’t look. 

Uncle Alphard was adding his two cents, “ While I agree that one’s family is not always in the right, no one we’ve mentioned has done anything particularly foul.”

“Alphard! They are letting themselves be influenced! Acting as if it doesn’t matter that each and every day we have to share more things with muggles and mud bloods! The risk it puts all of us in!”

That devolved quickly into multiple voices talking over one another. 

“Hearing other opinions is not the same as accepting muggles and mud bloods, don’t act as if it does!”

“No one mentioned anything about accepting mudbloods!”

“But your son didn’t speak out against banning them from Hogwarts!”

“There has never been enough support for that to become reality! He didn’t say they should attend, only that he didn’t support a ban!”

“Practically acceptance!”

“One day we will have support, will he be in favor of it then?”

“One day? When is this one day!”

“Sooner than you think.”

Bellatrix turned quickly at that statement. There was a certainty to it, that seemed to take others aback. Her father and Orion nodded along to what Mr. Rosier had said, but others immediately started to disagree. 

“Gentlemen,” Uncle Alphard started. “While we are all fascinated by this topic, it seems less appropriate for the children. At the volume we are talking, they cannot help but hear.”

Conversation switched quickly to something less controversial. But the minute dessert ended, the men at the table staged a quick exodus, excusing themselves for drinks and cigars. Even those recently graduated were invited. Bellatrix wished she could listen in on the conversation her father would be participating in rather than go off with the other children, but there was no way to eavesdrop without being caught. 

As if her father could read her mind, as everyone moved onto the next part of the evening, she heard her name. It wasn't _fair_. It wasn’t her fault she wasn’t a boy! He wouldn’t be mad at her listening if she was a boy.

Hours later, when Narcissa and Andromeda returned to their room, they expected to see their older sister there. She had not returned to join them and the rest of the children, although the had seen their father mingling with the other adults. Christmas Eve traditions had been completed without any sign of Bellatrix. Druella had made excuses for her eldest, claiming she felt ill. Their parents would want to keep up the appearance of that being the truth, so she’d have to be in their room when they went to bed. 

Except she was not. There was no sign of their sister, or any indication she had returned. 

“Father’s in a mood, if he catches us out of bed, we’ll be in as much trouble as Bellatrix.” Andromeda pointed out.

“What if she’s hurt?” Narcissa had a distinct worry crease in the middle of her forehead. 

“I think we can guarantee that.”

“But tomorrow is Christmas!”

Andromeda shrugged. Maybe their father had locked Bellatrix in a room somewhere to teach her whatever lesson he felt she needed to be taught. Christmas would be no deterrent to him. 

“Maybe she went into the boys room?” Narcissa suggested. 

“They went to bed earlier. Why would she still be there?”

“I’ll check.” Narcissa knew Bellatrix was not likely to be there, but she did not know what else to do. When Regulus came to the door, he said Bellatrix wasn’t there, and he didn’t know where she was.

“Why isn’t she in your room?” Sirius asked. 

Narcissa lied. “I thought maybe she was playing a game and hiding from us. She’s probably in the bathroom.”

“Why didn’t you check there first?” Sirius asked.

“Andy is looking there.” She hurried back to her own room to avoid additional questions. “They haven’t seen her.”

“I have an idea,” Andromeda ventured. “Uncle Alphard. He could look.”

This would not be a plan Bellatrix would like, Narcissa knew, but they had no better one. Uncle Alphard was really nice. He would help. Sending a house elf for him would be the fastest, but they couldn’t think of a reason for a house elf to need to speak to their uncle, he wasn’t hosting. No, they were going to have to sneak into his room, and wait until he returned. Getting there set both their hearts racing, adding an additional layer of stockings to muffle their footsteps, checking the hallway multiple times before getting up the courage to creep down to his room as quickly as possible. There was no answer when they knocked, and they rushed inside the empty room.

Every minute they waited seemed like eternity, but Andromeda figured it couldn’t have been that long before they heard the doorknob turn. They both had a moment of panic. What if they’d gotten the room wrong? When Uncle Alphard walked through the doors, both girls gave a sigh of relief. 

Alphard shut the door behind him, looking at the girls in confusion. “What brings you to my room when you ought to be in bed?”

It was only then they realized that to explain the situation, they’d have to tell Bella’s secret. Silence hung heavy in the room for a few moments as they looked at each other apprehensively. What if their uncle told their father?

Finally, Andromeda broke the silence, “Bella is missing.”

“Missing?”

“She didn’t come back to our room.” Narcissa explained. 

“Your mother said she wasn’t feeling well.”

“Then she should be in our room, resting.”

Alphard nodded, but stayed silent. The girls hadn’t indicated what they wanted. 

“We were hoping you could find her.” Andromeda took over, taking a deep breath, her next words running into one another. “We think she made father angry.”

That confirmed his suspicions about his brother. Although not surprising, it was disappointing. He had hoped for better for his nieces. Missing likely meant Cygnus left her where she fell, and she was incapable of getting back to her room on her own. 

“Go back to your room, and I’ll see what I can do.” He couldn’t ask Cygnus where he would have taken his eldest, but there were only so many rooms where he’d be able to take her without worry someone would intrude.

His instincts led him right, when he walked into the library and turned on the light, a figure in the corner turned away from the door. 

“Bellatrix?”

“Yes?” A much meeker voice then expected answered him.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine.” There was a force to her words that made him feel she was trying to get rid of him. 

Crossing over to her, he knelt, putting himself on her level, but she still wouldn’t look at him. “Your sisters sent me to look for you. They were worried.”

“I’m looking for a book.”

“On the floor?”

“I fell.”

“Do you need help getting up?”

His niece sighed and he waited. Surely this night had been awful enough without him calling her a liar. It took a moment, but she turned towards him; he could see the outline of a bruise forming on her cheek. 

“I hurt my ankle.” She explained. 

He nodded, accepting her ankle was hurt, not bothering to correct the fact he knew she had not hurt herself. He reached to help her up, pausing when she scooted away. 

“I may have hurt my side too?”

“He really did a number on you.”

Her face fell, and he felt guilty, he should have kept up the pretense. Carefully, he scooped her up in his arms, getting angrier when he felt her wince. Her face scrunched, as if she was holding back tears, and he was ready to apologize, but she buried her face in his shoulder, mumbling into his coat. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

He could feel the heat of his anger as it rose into his chest. It was one thing to hit a disobedient child, it was quite another to beat one for the hell of it. Had Cygnus gotten angry with the discussion during dinner and taken it out on Bellatrix? She was hardly a muggle lover, not with the way he’d seen her gaze at the tapestry. Punishment should fit the crime, and Bellatrix did not know what crime she had committed. 

“If we run into anyone, I’ll tell them you fell in the library. We’ll get you fixed up back in your room.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was shaky and his fist ached with the need to punch Cygnus in the jaw, But, he knew he could not confront his brother about it. It wouldn’t make Cygnus stop, and it wouldn’t make Bellatrix feel better. Getting involved would be no way to protect the girls.

Alphard could see faces peering into the hallway, heads quickly pulled back when he came up the stairs. They reappeared quickly, having realized it was him and Bellatrix. He put them to work, getting nearby necessary supplies, and sent a house elf after some bruise balm. He’d need something more effective for her face. That was careless of Cygnus, during the Yule season.

“Does he do this a lot?”

The three girls looked at one another and he could sense the decision being made not to answer. 

“I won’t be talking to your father.”

They continued in their silence. He’d have to try another tactic. “Narcissa, has he ever hit you?

She shook her head no. 

“Andromeda?”

She had turned away from him, and Bellatrix was glaring at her something fierce. 

“Only Bella.”

“How often?”

Bellatrix’ chin had gone up, staring determinedly at the corner, away from all of them. She had crossed her arms across her body and her mouth sat in a thin line. Andromeda and Narcissa looked particularly uncomfortable. 

“I understand it’s a secret, but I could teach you spells, provide you with potions. Merlin, Bellatrix, it’s despicable! I am ashamed of him.” He spit the final words, “This is not discipline.”

She swallowed hard, and her eyes blinked several times, but otherwise didn’t move. 

It was Narcissa who broke the silence, murmuring something he couldn’t make out, but Bellatrix turned her attention back to staring down her sisters, who seemed to be on the verge of doing exactly what she did not want. 

Andromeda spoke. “It’s the second time this holiday.”

Bellatrix tried to swipe at her sister, like an angry cat. Her sharp intake of breath, he couldn’t be sure if it was due to her anger, or her injury. She closed her eyes, willing herself to not cry and not be in pain, a practiced maneuver. To Alphard’s surprise, she met his eyes next, and her next words were factual. 

“He doesn’t like me. I’m not a son.”

How could he respond to that when she was so utterly convinced of the fact, and was probably right. Cygnus gave no evidence of appreciating the daughters he had, especially when it came to Bellatrix. A shame, because the girl was smart, with a bright future ahead of her. It would be like Cygnus to ignore all that because she was not a boy. 

He needed to change the subject. “Let’s get you fixed up so you can enjoy Christmas.” 

Her sisters got her out of her dress so he could see the bruise on her side. Without training as a healer, he couldn’t be certain but nothing looked broken, only badly bruised, and he hoped he was right. They wrapped washcloths around her ankle and elevated it on pillows. Those injuries he was going to have to leave to the pain potions and bruise balm, he needed to save the actual healing magic for her face. A sprained ankle could happen any number of ways, but no one would believe she fell and got a hand shaped bruise. 

“Healing magic is not my strongest suit, so this may be painful.”

Her mouth had reset to that small thin line. There was worry in her eyes but she nodded, the alternative would likely be staying in her room the rest of her holiday.

Tomorrow he was going to pick up some books to learn the best things to teach his niece.“It will stay tender, but no one should be able to tell.”

She nodded again, looking more like herself. The contrasts in her behavior from the snowball fight he had happily watched, to now, shook him. Upon returning to his room, he poured himself a stiff drink, quickly followed by a second.


End file.
